


We are the Sun's Children

by flavouredcheese



Series: The Tale of the Sun and the Spear [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 17:09:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 34,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1865751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flavouredcheese/pseuds/flavouredcheese
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robert's Rebellion, from the perspectives of Doran, Oberyn and Elia Martell and other Martell characters. </p><p>"We do not bow, we do not bend, and we do not break."</p><p>[ Uni is a killer. But i'll have winter break starting seventh so expect a chapter then I promisseeee ]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Doran I

DORAN I

The paper crackled softly when Doran Martell unfurled it, laid it flat upon his desk and read the black ink scrawled onto it, " Both Ned Stark and Jon Arryn have married a Tully daughter each," He announced wearily, the corner of his mouth turning downwards. He spent another moment scanning the text before leaving the parchment to curl back up and protect its treasure. He rubbed his chin, eyes looking up at his younger brother in front of him, " I know what you are going to say,"

" It needs to be heard regardless," Oberyn countered, " We must march in full force past our mountains; a few words of support and a men will not save Elia from Robert Baratheon and his wolves, falcons and trouts,"

Doran's frown deepened, " Our sister has our uncle, Arthur Dayne, and ten thousand Dornishmen to defend her and her children's lives. I have ordered them to bring them away to safety at the first and most surest sign of danger,"

" _Kingsguard_ ," His brother hissed, " Who do you think they are most bound to obey? They will eat their own cocks if Aerys commanded them to, - and if Aerys orders Elia to stay in Kings Landing and our soldiers to march away to the Stormlands to meet the rebels at the time the Stags and the Wolves come charging in, Elia will be-,"

" She will be treated as royalty- of the Martells, if not of the Targaryens," Doran said firmly, " She and her children will be held for ransom, and likely be held prisoner to ensure our full cooperation. She, Rhaenys and Aegon will not be harmed lest they risk the fury of Dorne. I trust Jon Arryn to have that much sense if not Robert Baratheon,"

" You say that like it's a good thing," Oberyn pushed his chair back, almost tossing it to the floor, and went to the window, " And you seem to place a lot of faith in the... goodness, if not logic, of the Rebels. Where did you discover this faith, brother, if i may ask?"

" I will not risk anymore lives of common Dornishmen and sentence them to their deaths in a place far away from their own homes," He almost raised his voice, but he knew better. _Winning an argument didn't mean having the loudest voice, but the best reason_ ; that was what his mother taught him. It was something he tried to hold true to- but he also knew that those with the loudest voices were often the most popular. Oberyn was one with the louder voice than his own, and Dorne will rally to his cause if he yelled it, " And I will not openly support a mad king, who burns people at his own whims and cooks them in their own armour as their sons watch. That in addition to Prince Rhaegar leaving our sister for another, gives me less and less reason to throw everything i have in support of the dragons,”

Oberyn scoffed and pulled his hair back, away from his face, and as he did so, his nails scraped the skin of his head in frustration, " It's not about who's fucking arse sits on that ugly throne, or who sleeps with who- it's about the safety of Elia, our sister, and her two little children. Aegon is not a few months old!"

" No harm will come to them," Doran snapped, " I will make sure of that,"

" Really?" his wild brother stalked back to his desk and planted both fists against the wood and leant forward, his eyes locking with Doran's own, " Then let me ride to King's Landing and protect Elia with mine own spear. I don't trust anyone else with her and her children's lives- not even our own uncle and the Sword of Morning. Not even an entire army,"

Doran stared back into his brother's eyes. Oberyn had always been inseparable from Elia, they were only a year apart and they grew upon each other, like two seedlings planted close together. They grew to support, complement and balance each other and he loved her more than Doran could ever understand. So he nodded, his lips thin, " Go, but in secret. I will not risk half of Dorne raising their banners to join you," 

Oberyn gave a curt nod and straightened, his eyes dark in the shadow, untouched by the sun flooding through the windows, " I'll leave by nightfall- and for you, brother, i will tell no one,"

Doran nodded, and his brother turned on his heel and went to the door.

" Be safe,"

" You should worry less for my own safety, and more for our sister’s,”

Doran sighed, and leant back into his chair. His little brother was always the wilful of them, the most stubborn and the most robust- even from the start. He remembered seeing Oberyn in his cradle, not a few hours old, and he was kicking and squalling and his hands grabbed and pulled at anything he could reach. Five fingers wrapped around one of Doran’s own, and he recalled fearing that his finger might break under the babe’s grip. Little Elia was the exact contrast of Oberyn, and Doran could not find in his memories a time where he would find Elia awake in her cradle. She was always quiet, sickly and above all, gentle in her hands, smiles and eyes. Doran swallowed his anxieties and fears over his sibling’s lives and once the door was closed, he unsealed another letter.

From Jon Arryn; who has agreed to ensure the safety of Elia and her children- to protect them from any harm and to treat them with every care and honour that they received as the Prince's own family. In exchange, Arryn had asked for the effective withdrawal of the Martells from the war, in all forms. He breathed and reached for a length of parchment, a quill and a pot of ink.

_' The only exchange you will receive, is the non escalation of the Dornish effort in this war- and after, should the tides turn to favour you and your own,' He wrote, ' Dorne wants her Princess and her children safe and perfectly unharmed. Ensure this, and I swear upon my mother's grave and upon the lives of my people that you will have our neutrality throughout the course of this war, brief shelter should this war go badly for your side, and full cooperation and trade should it go well. Fail this condition, and you will receive the exact opposite. We resisted Dragons for a hundred years- stags, wolves, falcons and trouts will not compare. We do not bow, we do not bend, and we do not break. Truly, Prince Doran Nymeros Martell,'_

He leant back, sanded the ink, and shook it clean and dry. Perhaps it was too harsh, perhaps his words were too threatening, but he was not weak and will not be seen as such. Elia and her children were all that mattered in this war- and he would not lose them.


	2. Oberyn I

OBERYN I

 

Oberyn gave Ellaria another grin and another kiss before he leant up from the bed and padded over to his dresser, " I'll be back in two moons," He said, as he pulled a pair of breeches on. The late afternoon sun was flooding through windows, throwing shadows in the form of geometric motifs onto the floor and across the room. The autumn winds blew pleasantly enough, and so the room did not feel hot or stuffy. Incense burnt smells from the overhanging lamps, smells that his senses have grown used to, and forgot.

" Must you leave?" And the pout in her voice made Oberyn laugh.

" Oh, my dear, Ellaria," He replied, " You know how I am. I go where the wind calls me to go,"

" Even if it blows away from me?" She slipped through the partition and appeared behind him, kissing his shoulder.

" Unfortunately," He said, turning around to find her still wonderfully naked, " But know this, my dear, the winds blow in a pattern- and so, i will always come back to you,"

She huffed and tilted her head to kiss him- or rather, to bite his lip, drawing blood- but Oberyn only grinned wider and wrapped his arms about her waist. Her warmth under his hand made him feel a twinge of loathing at the idea of leaving her. If only he could bring her with him to Kings Landing- though he was sure that she was not as adept as he was at horse riding, and would not be able to keep pace with him for long. Even so, Ellaria has always found ways to surprise him, and perhaps she was skilled in a saddle as she was in bed. Asking her of her experience in the saddle and to come with him to the capital, however, will risk a breach in the secrecy of his mission- and he did promise Doran to not tell a soul. 

" To how many lovers have you said those words to and never returned to them?" She asked, her eyes shining almost angrily. Those eyes were what drew him to her, those eyes that turned copper in the morning sun- those eyes that spoke of strength, mischief and kindness. He had seen and had kissed more comely faces, and sucked on fuller lips than hers. She was too skinny by half, though she had good hips. No, she was not truly beautiful, but she was stunning all the same. 

When Oberyn only gave her a kiss in reply, Ellaria sighed and tilted her head, her dark curls cascading over her bare skin, “ At least tell me where you’re going. You have packed lightly, though I assume that is due to the fact you wish to travel light and fast, not because it is a short trip. I see you have your armour ready, and your spearheads and poisons have been stowed away in saddle bags. You are riding to a fight, my Prince, you cannot lie to me. Pray tell, where is your battle?”

He smiled. She was sharp and intelligent- a formidable woman. If she had been legitimately born to her father, she would make a very able Lady of Hellhot, a sensible Uller for once, “ There have been some movement up in the passes, and Doran is uneasy. He fears for the War spreading into Dorne, and so he’s sending me North to prove his worries wrong. That, or prevent them from turning out to be correct and well placed,” He said, sighing, “ A waste of time i say- I’d rather he send me further north to Kings Landing, but he’s forbidden me from leaving the borders of Dorne,”

“ Your brother’s word will not stop you,”

“ My Dear, Ellaria- i do have more respect for my Lord Brother than I care to show,” He brushed his knuckles across her cheek, “ And i’m sure he’ll come chasing after me and drag me back, kicking and screaming, if i do leave. I wish to save him the trouble,”

“ Your sister, though- I know you want to defend her yourself,”

“ She has our uncle, Lewyn, and the Sword of Morning posted by person at day, and by her door at night. She and her children are safe,” And for a moment, Oberyn thought that he sounded exactly like Doran, and very nearly convinced himself that there was nothing to fear, “ Now, do let me dress. I don’t intend to ride in a saddle through the desert with only breeches to cover me,”

“ Oh, but you would look dashing, like a dothraki _khal_ ,” Ellaria smiled and let him go, stepping back to the bed, “ It will disappoint poor Emyr if he returns with wine and fruits only to find you had undone all his work in undressing you,”

He pulled his tunic over his head and tied the laces on his leather doublet, “ Every pet needs some tough love,” He said lightly, “ And i’m sure he has had enough of me today that it will last him a few moons,”

There was a soft rustle of silk and light clinks of gold bangles, Ellaria was dressing too, “ Ah, then i suppose i’ll have him all to myself then while you’re gone. Only fair, since i barely got a kiss from him earlier,”

“ Indeed,” He gathered his saddle bags and went to her. Her dress covered all and concealed none, and flowed about her body as easily as water and wind. She wore half a dozen gold,silver and copper rings on her wrist, and her hair was now tied back to reveal her slender neck, “ I’ll take you to the Water Gardens when I get back. We’ll spend some time there if you wish,”

Her eyes smiled at that, and she nodded, leaning up to give him a gentle kiss, “ Do be safe. What ever it is you intend to do, what ever battle- please, come home safe and whole,” She fell silent for a moment, as if she meant to say something else, but no words were conjured and Oberyn combed her hair.

“ I will,” He said, before letting her go, “ Tell Emyr he may bring the wine and fruits home for his family to share,” 

He leaves the door ajar behind him and he moves quickly through the castle corridors, and down its stairs. He went first to the kitchen, and asked for two weeks supply of dried beef and lamb, fruits, bread and hard cheese, as well as horse feed, which he stuffed into one saddle bag. In the other, he took a skin of wine and filled the rest of the bag with skins of water for the ride straight through the desert, water for himself and his two horses. He fastened the bag closed, making sure that it and the skins would not spill over. He has a kitchen boy help him carry his bags to the stable, where he ordered two of his favourite horses be brought and prepared for travel. 

He mounted all his bags onto the black courser, and threw the saddle onto the back of the red. It was when he was bridling Red that he saw his squires running out of the castle and into the courtyard, and by the way their eyes were wide and how heavily they breathed, he could tell that they had only heard that he was leaving and had rushed here immediately. 

“ Prince Oberyn,” one began, a boy called Mors Jordayne, as he slowed down, “ Give us a few minutes to gather our things, please,”

“ Let us come with you,” said the other, William Wells, breathing in deeply, “ My Prince rides into battle, and we should be there with you,”

It was all Oberyn could do to not roll his eyes and sigh. The boys were good, and they were eager for glory, but Oberyn did not like squires about him. They got in the way more often than not and will no doubt slow his travel. So he gave Red a pat and turned to the boys, “ No, both of you shall remain here. I am taking no one with me. Is that understood? If I find you following me, I will make sure to cripple your horse and leave you to the desert’s mercy,” He had wanted his words to be harsher, but found it difficult to do any more. They were only boys after all. 

Even so, that seemed to have the effect it was meant to, and the boys quickly nodded and stepped away from the horses. Oberyn swung onto his saddle and wheeled Red around, his eyes looking over Sunspear. The keep and the city looked stunning in the sun’s setting light. The castle walls seemed to glow as orange met with the red sand stone, while the Spear Tower and Tower of the Sun stood proud and tall, piercing the red sun. Even the colours of the city below grew brighter as the sun touched them and he could feel his breath leave his lips in wonder. 

Home. 

He will bring Elia home.


	3. Elia I

ELIA I

 

“ Princess Elia,” 

She turned her head to look away from her window and over her shoulder, “ Uncle,” She smiled, “ Is anything the matter?”

Her uncle dipped his head in a bow, and approached her. The sun had long set and there was no moon in the sky, but still, his pure white armour and cloak seemed to gleam like pearls. Perhaps it caught and reflected the light of the stars, and that thought made her uncle seem all the more handsome. She remembered when Oberyn used to dream of becoming a knight of the Kingsguard. He can’t have been older than three when he declared he was going to be a Kingsguard, no doubt inspired by their Uncle Lewyn’s own appointment into the order.

But time changed Oberyn and his mind, and he thought that staying in one place as an ‘over glorified babysitter’ was not at all for him. At thirteen he went to Oldtown to study, but not to be a maester, he had told her as much. Oberyn always wanted to live, and to do so, he said, he must learn as many things as he could, meet as many people as he can, travel and see every part an piece of their world, as well as eat, drink, fight and whore till he can no longer.

Elia often admired and envied her little brother, her closest companion. He was the second son, and she was the first daughter, as much as Doran was the eldest of them. She and Doran had duties to Dorne, and to their people, while Oberyn had little. She and Doran had to marry and play the roles that they did not ask for, while Oberyn need not, unless Doran commands him to do so for a political play. But Elia doubted that Oberyn would agree to any such proposals; her little brother always had a mind of his own. 

And she missed him dearly. She missed his spirit, and she missed the way he would make her laugh with socks slipped over his hands to make puppets. She missed his smiles and his voice and the way they used to share a bed as children. 

She wondered, if she had asked him to stay after her wedding to Rhaegar, would he have stayed? Perhaps then, would Maegor’s Holdfast be properly, and wonderfully warm. 

Her uncle was silent for a long time, and Elia managed another smile, encouraging, “ Yes, Uncle?”

He blinked and took a breath, “The.. King, has sent me to the Trident, to lead our men and to ride alongside Prince Rhaegar,”

“ That’s good,” She put her hands together, twined her fingers tight around each other and turned her body to face him, “ I’m sure you will defend my lord husband well,”

He nodded his head, “ I will do my absolute best to ensure he returns safely to King’s Landing,” He paused for a beat, “ Arthur Dayne is also leaving, as well as Gerold Hightower, and Oswell Whent”

She frowned, “ To the Trident?”

“ No,” he said,“ The Prince has sent him to Dorne, for what reason… i do not know,”

The sentence hung in the air- they both knew that was a lie.

“ Is she in Dorne?” She asked, her voice barely a whisper. Her lord husbands betrayal had wounded her deeply. She remembered adamantly refusing to believe the rumours and evidence presented to her. Even during the tourney at Harrenhall, Elia had only pursed her lips and looked away and told herself that Rhaegar was only currying up favour with the Starks when he gave that blue rose to Lyanna Stark. She always conjured up some reason to explain away the facts that she could not dismiss. Rhaegar was noble, she told herself. He would never leave his wife for another woman. He loved Rhaenys and Aegon; he told her so himself, and she could see it in his eyes that there was nothing false in his words.

But when truth finally hit her, she realised that he had left her because he wanted another child. He had told her that the dragon had to have three heads- and after she was told that Aegon would have to be the last of their children lest she court the Stranger’s kiss, for herself and her babe. She blamed herself of, course, and she was angry at her fragility. She cursed her frail body as she wept at night, and by day, she pleaded the maesters to find a way so that she could bear and birth another child for Rhaegar. But the maesters only shook their heads and apologised, leaving her to her fresh tears. 

Perhaps the answer was simpler. Perhaps Rhaegar had just grown bored of her, and so left her for someone who was full of life and spirit and daring and beauty, features that sickly Elia could not have.

Ser Lewyn only looked at her apologetically, and that was all the answer she needed and blinked her eyes as they begun to sting, tensing her jaw. She will not let her uncle see her cry- she was still Princess Elia Martell. 

Why Dorne however? Was it meant to further insult Elia? Why would Rhaegar risk the wrath of her brothers and leave Lyanna Stark in Dorne? Perhaps he had thought that she would be safer there- out of the reach of Robert Baratheon, whom Elia knew was infatuated with the Stark Lady. 

“ Who will remain here?” She asked, eager to change the subject, and her Uncle too seemed grateful for it.

“ Only Jaime Lannister, my lady,” He said, and his voice did little to hide his unease. 

“ Only one?” She asked, frowning, “ Lannister is no older than i am,”

“ Yes,”

That unsettled her and she moved to the chairs and cushions that were placed at the centre of her room, “ Please sit, Uncle,” she waved to the seat opposite her as she lowered herself onto a cushioned lounge chair and crossed her leg over the other. Ser Lewyn could not refuse her and so stepped over to the chair and sat, his armour and sword on his belt clinking softly. Here, the candle light gleamed and danced on their faces. Elia preferred to keep her room dimly lit, for fear of waking Aegon who oft woke at any slight disturbance.

“ Surely the king cannot mean to leave his own person protected by only one man,” _Who is more boy than man to be sure_ , she wanted to add, but thought better against it.

Ser Lewyn can only sigh and furrow his brow in worry, “ I tried to reason with him, to allow me to stay here with you and your children. My place is here with him and his family, I told him, but he only dismissed me and commanded me to lead our men to the Trident,” A moment’s pause, and he continued, “ Though i suppose… That he sees the rebellion as something that must be ended soon, and quickly, and so sees throwing all his power into this offensive as being… effective,”

“ You disagree,”

He frowned, “ It is not my place to say so, My Princess,”

She nodded, understanding. The Kingsguard may be the best warriors the Seven Kingdoms can conjure, but they had many limitations. Oberyn would have hated being a Kingsguard- he was never one to hold back from speaking his true thoughts.

“ I promised your brother I would keep you safe,” Ser Lewyn said, the lines on his face deepening, “ I fear for your safety,”

She did too, but she feared most for the safety of her children, “ I will be safe here, uncle, the city will not fall easily, nor will Maegor’s Holdfast,”

That did not erase the worry on his face, “ It is the enemy on the inside of which I fear, my Princess,” 

“ What do you mean?”

“ The Spider, whose very existence unsettles me. Jaime Lannister, whose father has been spurned and insulted by our King… Our king, even our King, has … grown … paranoid, and rash,” He seemed to regret his words, but he did not take them back. Elia could not find the words to calm his worries for a long while, for she agreed. 

She had come to a nest of snakes, and she was alone, with nought but her frail body to protect her children. 

Finally, Elia pursed her lips and tried to look brave, “ Stop the Rebels and Robert Baratheon at the Trident, Uncle, and you need not worry for mine or my children’s lives. I promise, I will be careful in your absence, and should I feel the slightest danger, I will be sure to escape the city,”

“ The King has forbidden that you leave the holdfast, much less the city,”

“ If Rhaenys and Aegon are in danger,” She said, “ There is nothing I wouldn’t do to save them, uncle. If disobeying the King will mean my children will be safe, then I will gladly disobey,”

He nodded, breathing,“ I will leave a few of our men here, as your own personal guard and escorts out of the city if need be, and you can trust Anyse, she will bring you to safety,” Anyse was Elia’s handmaiden, and Ser Lewyn’s paramour. He did not need to tell her she was trustworthy for Elia to know that she was a true friend, “ I will arrange everything with them before I leave at dawn,”

“ Thank you, Uncle,” She smiled and Ser Lewyn stood, bowing, before stepping to her and leaning down to kiss her head.

“ Stay safe, little one,”


	4. Elia II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((sorry i realised it made more sense to post elia's chapter then dorans. SORRY!!))

She watched from her tower window, the river of orange and red, as it marched out the King’s Gate. She heard the singing, the voices of her countrymen and women, as one, as they marched away from her. They sung praises to the honour of House Martell, and the strength of Dorne. They sung of Nymeria, and how the sun and spear defeated Aegon’s dragons. Perhaps that was the not in the best taste, given the King Aerys’ paranoia, but it was a song full of tradition and pride, and these songs made Elia smile, even after their words faded into the wind and distance. 

Rhaenys was watching beside her, standing on her toes and asking her every question a child could ask about Dorne. What is Dorne like? Is it very hot? Can we go to the water gardens some day? What are they singing? Do they have lemoncakes in Dorne?

Elia did her best to satisfy her daughter's questions, answering them as best and as dully as she could. But every answer made two questions and it wasnt long before Elia lifted her daughter off her feet and kissed her cheek until her whys and her whats dissolved into giggles. 

Setting her down, she took her hand and led her down stairs to their dining room. Lunch was being served when they arrived and Rhaenys skipped to her seat and clambered onto it. One of the maids was particularly fond of her, and chatted to her as she set her plate and spoon and fork. Elia smiled as she watched and asked another maid to bring them some grapes when they finish with their meal.

The doors swung open when Elia took her first bite of the roast, and her eyes glanced up to see King Aerys walk towards the table. Both Elia and Rhaenys set their forks and knives down onto their plates, and stood to bow their heads at him, moving without hesitation, out of habit and out of fear. 

“ Sit,” grumbled the king as he waved his guards to step ahead of him and taste the food that was served. That too was a habit. The King had been wary of anything that is placed in front of him, be it food, water, or gifts. The Kingsguard now had the task of tasting every meal and dish and cup he ate and drank. Today, it was Jaime Lannister who picked the spoon up and tasted the soup and the gravy, before taking a cut out of the beef roast and drinking from the King’s wine glass.

“ Are you well, good-father?” Elia finally asked, after spending an entire minute weighing upon her words. It was difficult to speak in the presence of the King, where every word can be turned into a threat and every threat can be turned into a sentence to the block. Rhaenys did well to not look at her grandfather and kept her eyes and focus trained on her lunch, all her smiles and questions gone.

“ Well enough,” replied the King as he tapped the table impatiently as he waited for Lannister to show any ill effects, “ Fewer Dornishmen in my city, the safer it is. They love their poisons, and I did not dare eat or drink with so many at my door,” The King scratched his head, his long fingernails scraping noisily against his flaky scalp, “ Yes, without them, I am safer,”

Elia managed a smile, “ Indeed, good-father,”

“ The food and drink is safe, my King,” said Lannister, as he stepped back from the table, unpoisoned and unharmed. The King however, did not move. Instead, his eyes have found and locked onto Elia’s own.

“ But _you_ are Dornish, are you not?” He hissed, his dark violet eyes shining under his eyebrows, “ You were sitting here before I entered- how do I know if you have not dropped the Strangler into my wine?”

“ The food and wine are safe, my King,” Repeated the handsome boy in the white cloak, “ If there was a poison, I would’ve already felt the effects and died,”

“ You assume too much, boy,” growled the Mad King, pointing a gnarled finger at him, “ All Dornishmen and women are snakes. Their venom can be fast, and they can be slow,” Then, he turned to Elia once again, glaring as his voice trembled in anger, “ And poison is a woman’s weapon! You could have been poisoning me all year! Rhaegar commanded you to, did he not?”

Rhaenys was frozen in her chair, and Elia straightened her back and kept her face still, even as her heart raced in her chest. She cannot allow him to see fear, for fear meant guilt, and guilt meant death. She was innocent, she reminded herself. She did nothing to harm her good-father, and she had done nothing wrong. The good and righteous need not be afraid. 

“ Rhaenys and I have been eating from the same dishes as yours, my King,” she said, as calmly as she could, “ I would not poison myself, my daughter, or you, good-father,”

The Mad King shook his head, “ No!,” He screamed before jabbing his finger at her, “ Seize her! She’s been poisoning me!”

Jaime Lannister was still as stone and only his lips moved, “ Every dish and cup you drank and ate from wasn’t poisoned, your Highness. Your Kingsguard and I have made sure of that,”

“ Kingsguard!,” laughed the Mad King, his words screeching against the stone walls around them, “ If they were truly the King’s Guard then where are Arthur Dayne, Gerold Hightower and Oswell Whent? My son- He commanded them to abandon my side. To abandon me to his Dornishwoman wife, a snake-,”

Rhaenys was beginning to weep and Elia wished she had sat closer to her so she could reach for her hand and hold her, “ I would do nothing for Rhaegar,” She said, raising her voice in a moment bravery and madness, “ He betrayed me. Abandoned me. I would sooner die than do his bidding,”

Mad King Aerys’s gaze found her, “ So you admit. Rhaegar commanded you to poison me,”

Her heart stuck in her throat, and in that moment she desperately wished she had Doran’s wit and wisdom and Oberyn’s daring and courage, “ No, My King,” She replied, her fear forcing her to tell the truth, “ He did not command me to poison you,”

“ So you’ve poisoned me out of your own will?”

“ No, good-father,” Her voice quivered, and she forced herself to steady, “ I would never do anything to harm you. We are family, by blood and by law, and you are my King,”

She could feel the Mad King’s eyes piercing through her, studying her. The silence held for a minute, even Rhaenys’ sobs were muted.

“ Take them to their quarters,” barked the Mad King, as he waved his bony hand, “ Make sure they do not leave their rooms. They will take their meals on their own, and they will have no visitor. Post three guards at their door at all times. Now, Lannister!”

Jaime Lannister took a step towards Elia, “ Princess,” 

Elia let out a breath and avoided the King’s gaze by turning her head to Rhaenys, “ Come, dear. Hush now,”

Rhaenys hopped off her chair and hurried to her, reaching and clinging to her skirts. Elia quickly leant down and lifted her daughter into her arms and stepped away from the table. Elia combed her daughter’s hair and shushed her, desperate to make sure they did not draw any more of their King’s ire. Lannister fell into step beside her and led her through the other door, his white cloak sweeping the floor.

“ Does he truly believe that I-,” She asked, once they were a dozen steps down the corridor. 

“ Best not speak of it at all, Princess,” came the reply, “ Best keep out of his way,”

Elia nodded, hugged her trembling daughter tighter and swallowed her fear.


	5. Doran II

He could hear Quentyn’s cries and as soon as he arrived onto the third floor; where the royal residences were. His own was the first door to the left, and he found himself hurrying when the cries got louder, and when he heard Arianne’s voice.

“ It wasn’t my fault!,” Cried Arriane, distressed, “ He kicked me! He hit my teeth!”

“ Even so- You weren’t supposed to let him go,” Came Mellerio’s voice, before fading away into shushes and sweet humming.

Doran pushed the door open and looked across the room to meet his wife’s eyes, “ What happened?” He asked, striding towards her and reading for his squalling son.

“ Father!” Arianne spoke before Mel could, and said, “ Quentyn kicked my teeth! It hurt!”

He did not reply immediately, as his wife shifted Quentyn into his arms. Doran turned the babe’s head to the side and saw the little red bump on the back of his head. His heart caught in his throat.

“ You dropped him, Arianne!” Mel pulled her hair back from her face and her eyes were fearful, as her voice trembled and rose, “ He may become slow! Or dumb! He’s your brother!”

“ It wasn’t my fault!” their daughter almost screamed, tears running down in streams down her cheeks. She looked just as, if not more, terrified than Mel was, “ I didn’t mean to drop him! Father-”

Doran bounced Quentyn in his arms, trying desperately to calm him, “ Enough!” He snapped, “ Arianne, go fetch the Maester. Now!,” And with that, Arianne broke free from her roots on the marble floor and bolted out the door.

Mel stepped closer to him and gingerly touched Quentyn’s head, her brow furrowed and her eyes glistening, “ It doesn’t look too terrible,” She said, mostly to herself, to reassure her own worries, “ He will be fine- won’t he?”

“ Yes, of course. He can’t have fallen far, Arianne is only so tall,” He rubbed Quentyn’s back as the babe tugged at his collar, “ Shh, shh, my son,”

“ I shouldn’t have let her hold him, she’s too young,”

“ What sister would not want to hold her brother?” He said, his tone soft, “ Do not blame yourself or our daughter, my love. There will be no harm done. Quentyn will be fine,”

Mel nodded, biting her lip, before turning around and hurrying to their own quarters. She returned with some ice in her hand, supposedly from the cooler box where they kept snow brought across the sea from the Dornish mountains. They had little need of ice in their drinks now, with the winter winds rising, but the ice was always there if ever the sun decide to make their afternoons hot, “ Here, hold him still,” She said, as she found a cloth and wrapped the ice with it, before bringing it to the bump on Quentyn’s head.

The babe squirmed and started to weep again, but Doran gently shushed him and kissed his forehead, “ You are a Prince of Dorne, my son. Be strong and brave. You are born of the Sun and of blood with Queen Nymeria. Be strong,”

Quentyn soon quieted, and Arianne returned with the Maester huffing and puffing behind her, his chains making such a clamour that Quentyn began to squirm and fuss once more. Doran brought his son to the maester and showed the man the bump on the back of his head, which Maester Jaeherys squinted at and brushed his fingers over to assess the extent of the swelling. 

Then the maester went and got a little rattle from Quentyn’s crib, bringing it to the babe, and shaking it in front of him. He moved the colourful rattle left, then right, then left again, and Quentyn’s eyes followed the rattle, his mouth frowning. He then moved to shake the rattle behind Quentyn, to which the babe turned his head and made to reach for the rattle. Maester Jaeherys let him have the rattle, and smiled at Prince Doran.

“ His senses seem to be perfectly in order, my Prince,” He announced, “ And while we have to wait till he is older to see if he is mentally impaired, I highly think it unlikely. It is only a little bump, which looks worse than it actually is. He will be fine,”

Mellario came to take Quentyn from Doran and kiss the babe’s head. Doran then thanked the maester and dismissed him. 

“ I’m sorry I dropped him,” came a little squeak from beside him.

Doran looked at Arianne and got onto one knee to look her in the eyes, “ It was a mistake- only a mistake,” He wiped the tears from her cheek, “ It was not your fault, my dear,”

“ But-“

“ When we make mistakes what do we do? Hm?”

She only sniffled and rubbed her eyes against her sleeve. Doran smiled faintly and combed her hair. She had soft curls, and her cheeks were full, and Mel worried that she would grow to be plump when she grows older. Though the other ladies about Sunspear reassure them that it was just baby fat, and would be shed as children grow to maturity. 

“ Look at me, Arianne,” He said, voice gentle. His daughter reluctantly met his eyes, lips quivering, “ I’m not angry at you. Your mother isn’t angry at you. We were just worried for Quent. Understand?”

She nodded once.

“ Now, when we make mistakes, we can do three things,” He held three fingers up to illustrate, “ The first, is that we cry, and we sit down and we do nothing about that mistake. Does that sound like a brave thing to do? Does that sound like something a Martell would do?”

She shook her head, biting her lip.

“ Indeed. So you should never do nothing after you make a mistake,” He folded the first finger and showed her the second, “ The second thing to do is to blame someone else for that mistake. That sounds very bad doesn’t it? A Martell knows when a Martell is at fault, and so admits the fault. A Martell never blames someone else for something a Martell did. Do you understand?”

She nodded, whispering, “ Yes,”

“ The third thing to do after making a mistake, is to try your very best to fix it,” He looked her in the eyes, “ Now that sounds brave and responsible and something any Martell prince or princess should do, doesn’t it? 

“ Mhm,”

“ Most people only do the first two, and never the third,” He said, “ But a Martell should always, always do the third. A Martell always tries to fix their mistakes. Now tell me, Arianne- did you do the first one? Did you cry?”

“ Yes,”

“ The second? Did you blame someone else for something you did?”

“ Yes,” Her lips started to quiver again and Doran touched her cheek to keep her eyes on his own.

“ And did you do the third? Did you try to fix your mistake?”

She was silent.

“ You did, remember? You went to fetch Maester Jaeherys. You did fix your mistake,”

It took a moment, and Arianne nodded, understanding.

“ See?,” He smiled and kissed her forehead, “ You are a Martell Princess, and you will rule Dorne after me, so remember this, the most important thing is to always try and fix your mistake,”

“ I’ll remember, father,”

“ Good,” He combed her hair back, “ Now wash those tears away, my dear. Its almost time for your lessons,”

She scurried off into her own quarters and Doran stood to go to his own. 

“ Is he asleep?” He asked as he entered, walking across the room to the table where a pitcher of water was placed.

“ Yes,” Mel replied with a sigh, “ He was exhausted from crying I think,”

He poured the water into two cups, and brought one to her, “ And how are you, my love?”

She nodded, breathing a thanks as she took the cup, “ Well enough I think,” She paused to drink, before asking, “ Have you word from Oberyn?”

“ No, but I do not expect to hear from him for another week at least when he crosses the border,” Doran replied parting the veil that covered Quentyn’s crib to look at his son, “ If all went well, he’s past the desert by now,”

“ How are you sure that his horses have not broken a leg and is not trapped in the dunes or caught by a sand storm? It still amazes me how anyone could make the crossing over such a wide expanse of nothingness, with nothing to protect one from the sun’s rage,”

“ Ah, I do not know,” He turned to her and smiled, “ But what I do know is how stubborn Oberyn is in nature. He will find a way across the desert even if he had to walk on his two feet. Also Oberyn is an excellent rider, he will know when he is pushing his horses too hard,” Just then, Doran wondered if he was not yet old enough for a race with his brother through the dunes. He had done the same with many of his own friends and foster brothers, but never with his own blood. He doubted that he would win however, Oberyn was leaner and a stone lighter than he was and knew his horses as well as he knew his spear and poisons.

He stepped away from the crib and Mel set her cup aside, “ Any news on the war?” She asked, rocking the cradle gently.

“ Only that there was a battle where Jon Connington was tasked finding and killing a wounded Robert Baratheon in a little town. The battle went poorly for the Targaryens, who were trapped in the streets when Stark and Tully arrived and rode through the town. Connington was exiled for his failure,”

“ Another victory for the rebels,” Said Mel, her voice hinted worry.

“ Another raven tells me both armies are making to meet at the Trident- a large river in the Riverlands,” he explained to his Norvosi wife, “ My Uncle will be leading the van of Dornishmen, riding alongside Prince Rhaegar,” 

“ Will your sister be all right in the capital?”

“ Arthur Dayne is still with her, there had been no mention of him leaving the capital in my uncle’s message,”

Mel nodded and went to him, “ There is still hope for us to win this war, my love,”

He hummed, but he wasn’t sure whether he agreed or disagreed with her, and nor could he decide whether he considered ’us’ to be the Martells and the Targaryens. He supposed it was politically correct, given that his niece and nephew are Targaryens by name. Even so, Doran felt that it was best if the King Aerys no longer sat on the Iron Throne. His rule endangered every life in the seven kingdoms, and Doran felt that as angry as he was at Prince Rhaegar’s infidelity, he knew that the man would make for a good and fair king. 

But the mad king had eyes and ears everywhere, even in Sunspear, and Doran only smiled at his lady wife, and said, “ I pray for our victory everyday,” And kept his true thoughts to himself.


	6. Oberyn II

The sun beat down on him, harsh and relentless. His water rations had run out two days ago. He always knew that his supply would run tight, but he never expected he would run low with a five days of journey to go. He had been caught in a sand storm for four days, and had spent the next week riding his horses day and night to make up for the lost time. He had made that decision out of panic, he realised. Ill thought and stupid. His horses were sure footed and strong enough that their bodies and bones were still in good form, but the cost of his haste was that both drank twice as much as they would normally. He had decided to leave the water supply to his horses, and drink a mouthful of wine before sleep but even then, the water ran out. 

One hoof in front of the other, his Red huffed and snorted, bobbing her head. He ran a hand against her neck and whispered words that he soon forgot. He rode her up a dune and straightened his back. He could see the faint outline of the Dornish mountains. If his horses had water, he would make it to the passes in two, maybe three days, but without water, all he could do is make them trot. He did not want to abuse or push them beyond their limits, especially not when he’s bred and raised them. 

Night came soon, but it did not bring any relief. The winter had made the frigid desert nights freezing. The winds blew in from the north in fierce gusts that blew both sand and snow into his eyes. He rode the Black now, and urged her into a trot, following the north star. He had wrapped a piece of cloth about her eyes and raised his scarf to cover his mouth and nose, doing his best to steer through the storm, over and across the fickle sand dunes. 

His mind often wandered as his body grew thirsty. His thought flitted between Elia and Doran and Ellaria. They went to Oldtown, in reminiscence, then to Volantis and Lys before swimming to the Summer Isles. Several times, his wits would leave him and he would see water in the distance- but he knew enough to mistrust his mind in the state it is in. 

The sun soon rose, and he wondered if he had slept, or had his wits truly left him and left blanks in his memory. He dismounted and switched the saddle onto the Red, fastening it. When he straightened, his world swayed and spun and he decided that it was best to sit. So he stumbled down onto the sand and took his scarf off, breathing out. 

He found himself laying on his back and somewhere his mind tells him to set up camp, wait the day out and travel by night. He needed rest, and so did his horses. So he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, and to his feet and reached for his saddle bags. As he set his camp up, he regretted not bringing his squires along. For all their trouble- they knew how to pitch a tent up and make a fire while he lay and slept. But he managed to raise his little tent and tie his horses, though he had no worries of them abandoning him.

The next two days were a blur. He knew he did not stop to camp, and swayed in his saddle more than he had ever swayed on a ship. He knew that once, Red tripped and fell, and her front left leg was bruised and swollen, so he could only ride Black. The mountains seemed no closer, and he remembered yelling at the sky out of frustration. Elia. Elia was waiting in Kings Landing and he was stuck here without water. Elia was probably bleeding he life’s blood away right now and he was lost in the sands. 

But on the third day, his eyes spotted fires in the distance. Tents, and horses. A caravan, he deemed, as he wheeled his horse towards it. 

His vision turned dark.

Then, he saw a man ducked out of a tent, his hand pulled by a little boy, his son, probably. 

There were half a dozen men around him, reaching for his reins, chattering to each other, before demanding answers from him.

“ Water,” He managed to croak to them, his mind too exhausted to register their faces. Enemy or friend, he didn’t care- didn’t want to care. He wanted water. 

“ Please, water,” A voice whispered.

Then, he fell.


	7. Doran III

“ Bring this one to my solar,” Doran said, waving his hand to the servant in front of him, “ I will speak to her there once I am finished here. Give her some bread, cheese and water, and make sure she doesn’t wander,”

“ My Prince-,” Areo Hotah began to protest, but quickly thought better of it and nodded his head and tapped the butt of his axe on the floor. Two guards then came forward and helped the girl to her feet and led her away. She went along without a fight, her bare feet making soft steps on the marble floor, even as she was hurried along. A quiet one, like a mouse, and so innocent and harmless looking that none would have suspected her. Perhaps the Spider should start calling his little birds his little mice instead.

As he waited for the next man to be called forward, Doran wondered how many more of her are hidden away in the walls of Sunspear- Perhaps even in the pools and trees of the Water Gardens. Perhaps he should take more care in what words he says, and when and where he says them. But how could anyone live such a careful and guarded life, and for how long before they start fearing their own shadows? Perhaps that was how the Mad King fell. 

The next were two merchants, who began bickering before Areo announced they could speak. Doran straightened his back and prepared himself to be a peacemaker in an impossible quarrel, “ Friends,” He began, “ Please, introduce yourselves,”

A merchant from the Summer Isles, he deemed, from his dark skin and feather cloak of blue and red, stepped forward and pointed to the other, “ This man is a pirate,” He declared, “ He cheated me of my wares,”

The other man began to argue and Areo knocked the end of his long axe against the marble thrice, and the sound was enough to bring silence between the two merchants. 

“ Please, explain how he … cheated you of your wares,” Doran said, leaning forward by a fraction- something his mother taught him would make him to seem interested and attentive. 

“ He told me that he will not sell his wheat for anything less that 15 silvers per bushel- said the price was justified because winter was coming, and food was running scarce, especially so with the war. Even so, i deemed 15 silvers too steep of a price, and he offered to lower it to 10 silvers if I beat him in a game of cyvasse,” said the Summer Islander, throwing a glare at the other merchant.

The second man was, by his thick accent whenever he tried to argue, pinned him as Volantene, though he wore the garb of any common Dornishman, “ And he says if I win game, he will give me two, uh, crates of his fruit,”

“ You cheated!” Cried the Summer Islander.

“ I play good,” Retorted the Volantene, “ This man cannot take uh, losing, so he got up and throw everything,”

Doran was struggling to understand the Volantene, so he waved at Areo to call for silence before saying, making sure his words are clear so the man could understand, “ Friend, you are from Volantis, no? Would you feel more comfortable telling me your side of the story in High Valyrian?”

The Volantene seemed pleased at that, and bowed his head as he stepped forward, “ _My Prince_ ,” He began, High Valyrian flowing easily and quickly from his lips, “ _My name is Qavo, and I owe your uncle Ser Lewyn a life debt after he saved me and my two daughters from pirates and slavers_ ,” 

Doran found himself frowning, but when he saw that none in the room seemed to understand, he quickly understood the game and replied in High Valyrian, “ _I apologise that we must meet under such circumstances. Please, continue_ ,” 

“ _I’ve been sent here to tell you of a fleet, numbering a dozen, has been ordered to sail here and block trade from coming to Dorne from the east, and perhaps attack should need be. They shall be arriving within the week_ ,” Qavo said, “ _The King wants to ensure that you do not … I apologise, my Prince, but the words your uncle used in his letter, are ‘step out of line’_ ,”

“ _Where is this letter?_ ”

“ _I will pass it to your guard when I leave_ ,” The man bobbed his head.

“ _Then I shall read it myself_ ,” Doran nodded and smiled at the man, before returning to Common tongue, “ I think I understand now. This man has been trained in cyvasse since he was a child, a common and loved game in Volantis. It does not surprise me that he is skilled in Cyvasse, and I do believe that he won the game fairly,”

Areo shot a look at the Summer Islander when he opened his mouth to argue.

“ However, the original price for the wheat was indeed steep, even for times such as these. Therefore, I decide that Qavo; you shall sell your wheat for 10 silvers per bushel to this man, who will give the two crates of fruit to Qavo as a sign of good will, and apology to the insult he made to Qavo’s skill in Cyvasse,”

There was a moment of unease, but Qavo nodded and soon the Summer Islander too bobbed his head and seemed pleased, “ Thank you, Your Grace,” They said, one after the other, before bowing and stepping out of the hall.

Doran leant back into the cushions and rubbed his jaw, “ Areo,”

“ Yes, My Prince?”

“ That’s enough for today,” Doran said, making to stand, “ Please tell those who remain to return on the morrow,”

Areo bowed and signalled to the guards posted at the doors, before stepping to Doran and falling into step with him as they left the hall through a side exit. They stopped when a guard caught up to them and showed Doran a roll of parchment. 

Doran thanked the man, took the letter and read it. It was indeed written in his uncle’s hand, and signed with his name- but that did not bring Doran any relief, for the contents of this letter must be true, and from what Qavo has told him, it was not happy news.

Areo dismissed the guard and they continued up the stairs, Doran’s eyes never leaving the ink on the paper. 

“ My Prince?” Asked Areo.

“ Yes?”

“ Dark words?”

“ Yes,” Doran breathed, swallowing and folding the letter in his fist, “ Dark words,”

‘Arthur Dayne has left Kings Landing under the orders of Prince Rhaegar,’ wrote his uncle, in his last paragraph, ‘The only Kingsguard left in the capital is the boy, Jaime Lannister. I have my paramour looking after Elia, but your sister is a prisoner in all but name, locked away in Maegor’s holdfast. I fear should the battle go ill… King Aerys will not hesitate to threaten her life to gain Dorne’s full support. I’m sorry, my Prince, Elia is not safe in Kings Landing,’

“ Send for the admiral please,” He whispered, his hand on the door, “ Tell him to meet me in an hour,”

Areo bowed and tapped his long axe onto the granite, before turning on his heel and walking down another corridor. Doran then turned the handle and stepped into his solar. The two guards posted inside straightened their spears when he entered and he waved a hand to put them to ease, “ I apologise for this,” He said, smiling gently to the spy who posed as a maid servant, “ Though I do hope you found the bread and cheese satisfactory,”

The girl had steel grey eyes, and they flickered down at her plate. She had eaten at half a loaf, and a quarter of the block of cheese that was set in front of her. That was good, Doran thought.

He pulled a chair on the opposite end of the little round table and seated himself, “ What is your name, girl?”

She hesitated, but eventually squeaked, “ Tara,”

“ How old are you, Tara?” He asked, reaching for the pitcher of wine, and pouring himself a glass, “ Please, don’t be afraid, I won’t harm you,”

“ I… I am five and ten, my Prince,”

“ Have you been working as a servant here long?”

“ Yes… since I was ten. I scrubbed the floors, now I help wash the clothes and fabrics,”

“ And I’m sure you did your job well, I have not heard a single complaint about you,”

Her cheeks flushed and she looked at her plate again, “ I … did my best,”

“ Thank you for doing so. My family’s linens are clean because of you,” He smiled and sipped at his wine, before continuing, “ And I’m sure you did your other job well too,”

Her eyes shot up at him, fearful, though her face was stone.

“ There’s no need to be afraid, Tara. I told you, I will not harm you. You are under the Spider’s employ yes? Lord Varys?”

“ Yes,”

“ For how long?”

“ Five years,”

He nodded, “ You must’ve told him many things,”

She was silent. 

“ Tell me,” He put his hands together in front of him, his eyes fixed on her, “ What were the contents of your last message to the Spider? Tell me true, you have nothing to fear,”

The girl looked everywhere but his face, “ I sent a message to Lord Varys… I told him… That Prince Oberyn.. Is no longer in Sunspear,”

“ Is that all? A single sentence?”

“ Yes,”

He took a moment to study her, he had to make sure she wasn’t lying. If she had told the Spider of Oberyn’s journey to Kings Landing- or even suggested it, the Mad King would send his men to meet him and cut him down on the road. Doran may lose his brother and his sister in this war when he meant to save them.

But Doran simply nodded, deciding to take the risk and believe her, “ Thank you, Tara,” He smiled as he pushed his chair back and stood, “ Anders, bring Tara to Fylese, and tell her that Tara is to have a gold dragon for every member of her family living with her, including herself,”

A guard stepped forward and Tara stood and went with him, her feet making scarce a shuffle against the granite. 

Doran dismissed the second guard and went to the window, pulling the curtains open to allow a sea breeze to dance in. He breathed and leant his head against the window frame.

Birds, spiders and snakes.

Elia… His uncle’s words haunted him. A blockade, and a threat to Elia’s life. Elia was no more than a prisoner in the Red Keep, with none but a Lannister cub to protect her, if he would at all- which Doran doubted should the King command him to stand down. 

The Mad King was forcing him into a corner, with no way out but to pledge full support and ride day and night northwards to put down the rebellion.

He closed his eyes and he saw his sister burning, wrapped in a blanket of bright green flames.

Then, he whispered defiantly to the wind, “ Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((busy weekend;; so the next two chapters are slightly delayed, but i'll post them in a day or two- sorry!!))


	8. Oberyn III

Life centred around the jokes, the easy conversation and the comfortable silence as they made their way through the dunes. There will be a father, teaching a son the mysteries of the world, and there will be a mother scolding a toddler about sneaking a date when he thought no one would see. There were women chatting with each other about how to cook the next meal, and there were men discussing on what they will sell at the next town. Somewhere a lover argued with her man about how he snored, causing the rest of the caravan to laugh. Yesterday, a party of three sisters who returned with a string of scorpions and desert hares.

At night, by the dinner fire, a handsome youth would play a fiddle and his sister would sing a song or two as the rest ate their meal. The children would be put to bed before the moon could reach the centre of the sky, and they would all sleep in one tent together, as if they were all siblings- and perhaps they were all family, in one way or another. 

With such focus on family, Oberyn supposed his understood why they took to him so coldly. Even still, they gave him food and water, and allowed him to lay unconscious for two days on the back of a horse (and so, he smelled terrible when he finally woke). It was only on the third day did he find the energy to stand and feed himself. That night he introduced himself as Olyvar, a messenger travelling north to Highgarden from Sunspear. That seemed to satisfy the nomads and they allowed him to wash, using no more than a pail of water and a little vial of desert rose scent. 

On the fourth day, they arrived at a village near the foot of the Dornish Mountains and replenished their stores of water at the river. The caravan moved slower than Oberyn would if he galloped through the sands, but both his horses were exhausted- and as frustrating as it was, he knew that it was best if he travelled with them, at least for another day. Oberyn took the opportunity to buy some herbs from the village apothecary that he made into a paste to heal the bruise and swelling on Red’s leg, as it seemed that the nomad’s poultice was doing little to help it. 

“ Olyvar,” 

Oberyn looked up, “ Garin,” He said, greeting the fiddler. The boy was only a few years his junior, in truth, though he looked much younger. His skin was dark and his eyes were almond shaped and chestnut coloured. He had lines on the corners of his mouth that turned into dimples when he smiled- but he wasn’t smiling now, “ It can’t be supper yet,”

“ No, not yet,” Garin folded his arms across the chest, eyeing Red, “ She is of good breed. They both are,”

Oberyn pushed himself back onto his feet and pat Red on the neck, “ Yes, m’lord has only the best sires and mares in his stables. These two were bred for speed,”

Garin frowned further, “ Is the message urgent?”

“ Very,” He sighed, “ It may be too late now but…,”

“ Why not deliver the message by raven then?”

“ M’lord feared the bird will be intercepted,”

“ Must be a very important message,”

“ Yes,” Oberyn scratched Red on the nose. What was the boy getting at?

“ Why do you have spearheads in your bags then?”

Oberyn looked up, realisation hitting him. Of course they had searched his saddle bags- of course they did. Did they see the poisons too? Did they know what they were? “ They’re for Lord Garlan Tyrell,” He said, his tone relaxed and light, “ He commissioned spearheads from m’lord’s smith when he rode to Sunspear two months ago. Two birds with one stone they say. Well, three birds in this case,”

“ Three?”

“ Oh, m’lord sent some remedies for Lady Olenna. Apparently she’s suffering some pain in her joints and stomach,” He shrugged, nonchalant, “That was what I was told anyway,”

“ Hm,” Garin nodded rubbing Red’s neck, “ Were you close with them Lords at Sunspear?”

“ I’m the son of the horse master there; so I see them from time to time,” Oberyn smiled at the boy, “ What about you? I reckon you meet lots of people travelling North to South and South to North,”

Garin looked at him then back at Red, laughing some when she nickered and nuzzled his shoulder, “ I suppose so. She’s friendly, isn’t she?”

“ On good days, with the right people,” He replied, “ Do you like horses?”

“ Yes, maybe one day I will have enough to build a ranch and train and breed them,” Smiled Garin, all dimples and straight teeth. If he were one of his paramours, Oberyn would not hesitate to kiss that beautiful grin until it dissolved into breathless moans. 

Oberyn nodded, smiling, “ Come to Sunspear some day. My father loves an eager apprentice. It takes time, you know, to really understand horses, and I don’t know any man who understands them as well as my father does. Some say he can even speak to them; he certainly neighs at them a lot,”

“ Maybe, someday,” Garin gave Red another pat on the neck before stepping away, “ It’s almost supper,”

“ I think I’ll take my meal at the tavern, tonight,” It would be good to see what news he can catch of the war, “ Feel free to eat my portion,”

“ Hah, suit yourself. You’ll be missing out on the grilled snake,” Garin turned his back and made his way to the caravan camp. 

Oberyn watches him for a while, his mind lingering on the question on whether or not he should ask Garin if he would bed him- he certainly seemed the type, with that face and those soft curls that _begged_ Oberyn to comb and twirl around his fingers. Perhaps he was simply hopeful and desperate for someone to lay with after such an arduous and lonely journey, and was imagining things. But Oberyn shook his head and led his horses into the village. Elia may be in danger; how dare he think of fucking a random stranger?

Why did that scolding voice sound suspiciously like Doran?

The village had a square where cobblestones paved the ground instead of the sand that covered the other roads. Nomadic tribes were often tolerated in many communities, but they did not trust them enough to allow the nomads to sleep in the buildings. From what Oberyn could see, the nomads did not complain and seemed to prefer sleeping in their tents and on their blankets to feather beds. When Oberyn asked, they also seemed wary to place their wares and animals in the village square where they can so easily be stolen. 

There was wisdom in mistrust, Oberyn supposed- but that was Doran’s speciality. 

He tied his horses to the post, and made his way into the tavern. He was greeted by the murmur of idle conversation and only the barkeeper raised his head when he entered. Oberyn gave the man a smile and seated himself at the bar, “ Wine, please,”

The man took one look of him and grunted, turning around to reach for a bottle at the top of the shelf. 

“ I’ll have the whole bottle,” Oberyn said, leaving a gold dragon on the bar.

The barkeeper nods and takes the coin before setting the bottle and a wine glass down in front of him, “ Not many men come around here with real gold,”

“ No?” He uncorks the bottle and leaves it to breathe, “ A fortunate day then,”

“ Not many buy a whole bottle either,” The man had three black teeth, “ A hated wife to drink to?”

Oberyn laughed, “ No, no. I’m not wed- and I do not make it a habit to hate people,”

“ A habit that should be practised more often,” the man nodded, “ Too much hate in this world. Too much love too, especially in this war. The Prince running off with the Lady Stark claiming that he’s in love with her- then Baratheon comes in saying that the Prince kidnapped and raped her and starts this whole war for her honour and her hand. The result? Thousands and thousands die, because two men loved the same girl and hated each other for it. Love and hate- two things I wish the Gods never cursed us with,”

Oberyn managed a smile, “ But what would we be without these emotions? These are what make us human, what make us alive. Love and hate are the strongest of all human emotions, i think. They help us survive, enable us to achieve feats we can scarce imagine,”

“ But at what cost?” The barkeep shook his head, “ Me son’s gone with the Dornish army north, and last i heard of him was that he was leaving the capital for the Trident. I hear Baratheon’s army is there too. Why must my son’s life be coin that will be wasted away on a bloody field for some bloody wolf maid? Why must anyone’s son, nephew, uncle or father die for a quarrel between two jealous lovers? These highborn play, and us commoners pay, they always say,”

Oberyn was silent, looking away to pour the wine into his glass. The Dornish army has left Kings Landing- and that meant there were ten thousand shields less to protect Elia with. He brought the wine to his lips and drank a mouthful in a single gulp. He then straightened and took a breath, “ Come, share this with me friend. I don’t think I should finish this all on my own in one night,” 

The barkeep hesitated, looking around. There were no one else to entertain, so the man went around the bar with a glass in his hand, and sat on the stool next to Oberyn, “ M’ name’s Derion,”

“ Olyvar,” He returned, offering him his hand.

Derion then promptly gave it a light squeeze and Oberyn lifted the bottle to pour the wine into the barkeep’s glass.

“ I’m sure your son will survive the war,” he said, smiling encouragingly and hoping that he was right. He was beginning to understand why Doran was always so cautious in sending out spears. His brother often went on and on about how he didn’t want to waste life and blood, making him hesitant and even indolent, to Oberyn’s frustration. Maybe his brother was right in being careful and mindful. Lives of the common man were live still, and no less valuable than the lives of the highborn. 

“ I pray for this to be so,” Derion nodded and sipped at his wine, “ He’s a good lad, and my youngest will no doubt want to follow in his exact footsteps. At this rate… I may have to pass this here tavern to my daughter,”

“ If she is fit to run it and run it well, then she should inherit this, even if your sons live,”

The barkeep paused for a moment to think about that and nodded, “ Indeed. I agree,”

“ Anymore news from the north?”

“ You travelling northwards?”

“ Yes,” Oberyn swirled his drink around in his glass, and continued before the man could ask another question, “ Anything about the road I should know of?”

“ Roads are dangerous,” The man replied simply, “ Bandits target roads, so I suggest travelling off it,”

That would slow his journey, but bandits would stop him- at least for a while. He doubted a band of bandits could ever hold him for long- not while he has his fangs. He decided however, that it was not worth the risk, not after he has already suffered so many setbacks on this journey- And Elia’s life depended on his speed, now more than ever, “ I’ll avoid the roads then. Heard any more news?”

The man swallowed his question once again and answered, “ Just that Storm’s End is under siege. Tyrells have been sitting on their arses outside those gates for the better part of their year,”

Old news, but Oberyn thanked him all the same and poured another glass for himself. 

“ What’s your business north?” The barkeep finally asked after a minute of silent drinking.

“ Message and cargo to Highgarden,”

“ Oh,” nodded Derion and he fell silent.

Oberyn set his glass down, biting down on his lip. He did not have any time to waste- but should he risk riding by night? Should he risk making Red’s injury worse by forcing her to run? Roberts army may be stopped at the Trident- but with four of the great Houses backing the rebellion now, against the Targaryen’s own army and the Martell’s meagre force, was there truly any chance this rebellion will be snuffed on the banks of the Forks? No, if Oberyn had to bet, he will place his money on the rebellion. The numbers were in their favour, as well as will and determination to see justice served for all the ills the Crown had done upon them. 

Robert Baratheon will not be stopped at the Trident- he was fighting for love, for that wolf maid that Rhaegar betrayed Elia for. The rebel force will defeat the loyalists, and they will march upon Kings Landing, and then…

“ Do you have any food i can buy? I must make to travel tonight,” _There was no time to waste._

“ Tonight?” The barkeep straightened and frowned, “ It’s only a crescent moon tonight- you will not be able to see ahead,”

“ I will have a lantern with me,” Oberyn replied impatiently,“ Can i buy bread and salted meat from you or not?”

Derion nodded, standing to make his way to the other side of the bar. Oberyn tips the last of the wine into his mouth and gets a few silvers from the pouch tucked away in a pocket, “ I’ll buy enough for two weeks of travel, and horse feed if you have any,”

“ I can send Daren to the stables to buy some if you want,”

“ Thank you,”

The barkeep called out to his son and a boy of seven or eight came scampering, and the first thing Oberyn saw of him was the grey, stone like skin that covered the boy’s neck and shoulders. Wary, Oberyn stepped back, though he knew that there was nothing to fear. If the boy was up and running about, it is certain that he was well and healthy and the grey scale was no longer contagious. But Oberyn’s experience on the Rhoyne had taught him to always be alert. Sometimes all it took was dipping hand into water of the Sorrows, and the next day the fingers would turn numb and dark. After, death was inevitable. Some would survive with their wits for ten years, while others may not see the next year before they turn into Stone Men. 

It was a good half hour before Oberyn fastened the saddle bags onto his horses. He made sure Red was carrying only the lightest of loads, his spearheads, armour and poisons, while Black carried the food, feed and water, as well as the saddle. He paid the barkeep and the boy generously and let them keep the remainder of the bottle of wine he bought- as an apology. He was the highborn the good barkeep cursed, and while the man will never know, Oberyn felt that it was important that there was some degree of justice and fairness between them. 

“ Should one of the nomads ask of me, tell them I have left, and tell them also that I will see them rewarded for their aid,” He told the barkeep as he swung onto his saddle. Derion nodded and stepped back to let him pass.

“ Safe travels,”

Oberyn nodded, and urged Black into a brisk trot, hurrying through the square. There were a few men walking about, and in the dim moonlight, Oberyn thought that he saw Garin standing by a door, speaking to a tall man. 

Ah, he should have invited Garin to drink with him… 

“ Too late now. Seems like I’ll have to be as chaste as the blessed Maid for a few more weeks. Elia would be proud of me, by the end, I'm sure,” He sighed, before arriving onto a dirt path and passing under the shadows.


	9. Elia III

Aerys had commanded her to be brought down to the throne room earlier that day, and there she was made to watch the execution of one of the former Hands, Lord Qarlton Chelsted. Elia did not know why and knew better than to ask or to protest. She did not know the man, but she could not imagine how any living person could deserve the fate that he received. 

He had been brought to the hall begging and squirming in his chains, dragged and pushed forward by the guards around him. Then, she saw the pyromancer, Rossart, come forth with his apprentices, bearing tall lidded pitchers. Elia had turned pale, knowing that the man will die in wildfire, but when she closed her eyes, the guard beside her told her sharply that she should open them and watch, lest the King decides that she should be the flames’s next victim. 

So Elia watched, but she did not see. The King commanded Rossart to pour the wildfire onto the Lord Hand and the pyromancer wasted no time in carrying out the Mad King’s command. First there was the sharp, stinging smell of wildfire oil. Then, the screams; the begs and the cries and the wild shrill shrieks. But the worst was the smell of burning human flesh, and Elia had to swallow her own lunch when it came rising up her throat and cover her nose. Her eyes were watering by the time the shrieks died, and when King Aerys stood from the Iron Throne.

“ This is what awaits any who dare oppose me,” He declared, his skeleton hands spread and his voice piercing through the hall, “ This is what awaits any who fail me. This is what awaits traitors and rebels. If you do not fight for me- I will brand you a traitor. If you fail me- I will brand you a traitor. Should the Rebels succeed in march into the crown lands, I will brand you all, men, women and babes, guilty of treason! And fire and blood will be your punishment! Fire and blood will be your fate! I will set all the lands on fire- I will burn you all!” 

Princess Elia Martell did not sleep that night, staring emptily at her ceiling as she held her children to her chest. 

The Mad King’s speech had been directed at her and at Dorne, perhaps even to Jaime Lannister and the Westerlands. The Lannisters had remained neutral throughout the war, and Elia knew that if she was not married to Rhaegar, Doran would prefer to stay out of the war completely. She knew that the Mad King blamed the failing situation on Dorne’s hesitance, and the speech was a message to Sunspear to commit fully for the Loyalists or perish.

She swallowed, wondering if the Mad King would go so far as to burn her children, his own grandchildren, for Doran’s caution. She didn’t think that the King would listen should she offer herself to his fires instead of her children. I will burn you all, he said. 

She had half a mind to send a raven to her brother, to beg him to send more spears to the Targaryen cause. She would write that it didn’t matter that Rhaegar had betrayed her marriage and honour. What mattered were her children and the people of Dorne. But did she dare write a letter to her brother? Did she dare risk becoming the focus of the Mad King’s paranoia and attention when she was walking on a thin wire as it was? The King would think that any raven she touches will carry a secret, and the King would then believe that she and Dorne were plotting his downfall and were working with the Rebels. 

I will burn you all, the King’s voice whispered and echoed and repeated in her mind. 

No, she will not risk her children’s lives- she will not let them suffer the way Lord Chelsted suffered. But should she stay frozen, waiting for news from the Trident and fear every screech of her doors? Should she lay awake every night, fearing the news will be ill and fearing the moment Jaime Lannister drags her and her children to the throne room? Or should she risk the Mad King’s ire and send a raven to her brother? She knew that the Rebels had four Kingdoms under their banner, and they no doubt outnumbered the Targaryen forces. Perhaps defeat was not certain, but victory will be difficult to achieve even if Robert Baratheon was killed. No, she will not sit idly by and let Rhaenys and Aegon become fuel for the Mad King’s fires. 

Somewhere in the dark, she heard a ghost crying out and weeping. 

Dawn finally came and Elia was woken by Aegon who began to fuss and cry. She sat up and pulled the babe to her chest and rubbed his back and kissed his head, “ Shh, shh,”

“ Mama,” Rhaenys yawned and rubbed her eyes, “ Mama, I dreamt about dragons,”

Elia smiled at her daughter as she slipped her robe off her shoulder to let Aegon feed at her breast, “ Truly?”

“ Yes,” Rhaenys leaned up, her dark curls a tangle, “ Balerion turned into a dragon, and I rode him to the Trident to help father defeat the rebels,”

“ You said dragons, though,” She grinned, “ Was there another one for me and Aegon to ride?”

“ No… There weren’t anymore dragons- but maybe if we get another kitten, you’ll have a dragon to ride too,” Rhaenys crawled over to them, “ But Aegon’s too small to ride a dragon, mama. He will just get eaten up,” 

“ Another kitten hm?” 

“ Can we?”

“ But we don’t want to trouble the servants any more,” Elia frowned, “ Its bad enough they have to clean out Balerion’s sand box,”

“ If I clean Balerion’s sand box, can we get another kitten?”

She made a face, “ Oh, i don’t know…,”

“ Please, mama,” Rhaenys pouted.

“ Promise me you will take full care of both kittens,”

“ I promise,” Rhaenys sat up, folded her legs and put her hand on her heart, “ I swear it by all the gods, old and new,”

“ Oh, if you’re willing to swear it to the gods, who am I to not believe you,” She reached for her and Rhaenys grinned and leant close to kiss her cheek and hug her neck.

“ Thank you, mama!” Rhaenys said, before untangling herself from her when Aegon began to cough. 

“ Best run down and tell Septa Masha to find you another kitten then,” Elia said, as she wiped Aegon’s mouth and patted his back until he burped, “ Go on now, I’ll meet you at breakfast,”

Rhaenys nodded excitedly and scampered down from the bed and out the room. Elia fixed her robe and moved argon onto her other arm and carefully stood up with him. She wrapped him in his swaddling clothes and bounced him gently, humming softly to him. The wet-nurse knocked and entered, “ Good morning, m’lady,”

“ Tyana,” Elia breathed, walking to her, “ I just fed him,”

The little woman bobbed her head and Elia moved Aegon into her arms, “ I will give him a bath then, m’lady,”

“ Thank you,” Elia pulled a shawl over her shoulders and stepped through the door. Two guards then fell into step with her and she did her best to ignore them. They weren’t here to keep her safe, but to make sure she never thought to escape. 

I will burn you all.

Rhaenys was already spooning her porridge into her mouth, telling the Queen excitedly about her dream of Balerion. Elia was surprised to see the Queen there and curtsied hurriedly when Queen Rhaella turned to look at her, “ Your Grace,”

Rhaella smiled tiredly, a forced smile, “ No need for formalities, my dear. Come, sit,” she said, and waved to a chair beside her.

The two guards stepped back and posted themselves at the doors, and Elia made her way to her seat and smiled at Rhaenys in front of her, “ Honey porridge again?”

“ Mhm,” 

“ Don’t forget your fruits,”

“ I won’t,”

“ Perhaps she has the gift of dragon dreams,” Said the Queen, “ A gift of foresight,”

Elia looked at her, “ Perhaps. We shall see soon won’t we? Has the battle begun yet?”

The Queen simply shook her head and looked away, gaze falling on Rhaenys. Silence fell around them, disturbed only by Rhaenys’ spoon tapping against the insides of her bowl in her careless ignorance. Elia then noticed that the Queen had not touched her plate, much less her breakfast on it. She realised how pale Rhaella looked, how dark and red the shadows lay beneath her eyes. There was a bruise at the corner of her lip and her cheek was slightly swollen. 

“ Your Grace…,” Elia began, careful and mindful, “ Is everything all right ?”

The Queen turned to look at her, and that forced and sad smile reappeared upon her lips, “ Yes, my dear. My mind was simply wandering,”

She felt sick, because she knew what the queen was hiding from her. She knew that the King was often more vicious after he has fed a screaming soul to his green fires. His hunger for women would also grow, to a point that people whispered that he could only feel any sexual urges when he has watched a man consumed by flames. She had also heard whispers that whenever did the King did go to her, he would leave marks and scars on the Queen’s body, blood and bruises. In Dorne, such abuses of wives or any woman were unheard of - and when ever it did occur it would always be swiftly punished. 

“ Your Grace… If…,” Elia bit her lip, and lowered her voice, returning her attention to her plate and cutting herself a piece of bacon, “ You musn’t let him do this to you,”

Rhaella laughed, soft and sad, “ My dear…,” she began, “ He only grows wilder… if I try to stop him… and it’s unfortunate that… I always try to…,”

She frowned, brow furrowing, “ There must be something that you can do-,”

“ He is my husband… And my husband is my King,” Rhaella touched her hand, “ Hush now, my dear. Speak no more of this,”

Elia stared at her for a moment, incredulous and upset, but looked away, realising that she was courting death just by speaking of defiance. They were all prisoners here- even Jaime Lannister. They were all the Mad King’s play things and tools and _property_.

“ Mama pass me the chocolates please!” Rhaenys chirped, reaching her little arm across the table. Elia smiled and reached for a bowl of chocolate pieces.

“ Eat your fruits, darling,”

“ I will,”

“ Yes,” Rhaella said, “ You must eat fruits so you can grow up strong and ride a dragon one day,”

That seemed to please Rhaenys and she quickly stuffed a piece of chocolate into her mouth and pulled her plate of fruits to her.

Elia turned to the Queen, “ Your Grace, please eat,”

“ Oh,” Rhaella blinked, and looked at her plate, “ No.. I don’t think I’m hungry. Later perhaps,”

“ Allright,”

Silence then fell between them once again, and Elia forced herself to eat, forcing herself to keep her breakfast down. Ten minutes passed before the Queen pushed her chair back and stood, “ I should go now,” She said as she walked around the table to go to Rhaenys and kiss the top of her head, “ Be good my dear,”

Rhaenys leant up and kissed the Queen on the cheek, “ I will, grandmother,”

Elia saw the Queen smile faintly before she stepped away and turned around to leave, her guards falling into step behind her as soon as she walked through the doors. 

Later that night, as she sat in the bath with Anyse brushing the tangles from her hair, she decided that should she have the chance or the need to escape from the capital, she will bring Queen Rhaella with her. They will be safer in Dorne. They will have the desert and the sun and thousands of spears to defend them from Robert Baratheon. the Queen would love the water gardens, she thought. The sound of children laughing and splashing about; the smell of oranges and the cool shade of the gardens always brought peace to her mind and a smile to her heart. she was sure that it will do the same for the Queen, even after everything she has gone through. Little Viserys can marry Little Arianne and when they time comes they will rise to reclaim all the Rebels have taken from them.

She asked for a quill and parchment and quickly wrote to her brother. She first told him that she was safe as Ser Lewyn left a dozen of his best spears and men in Kings Landing to protect her and help her escape if needs be. She then assured him that she the King has been gracious with her, despite being a prisoner in all but name. She begged him to send more support to the loyalists before it was too late, before Robert Baratheon can march onto the capital. 

_‘ Please, Doran,’_ She scribbled, ‘ _It doesn’t matter now that Rhaegar has betrayed me. Please, what matters now are Rhaenys and Aegon. Please, they are all that matter,’_

Anyse helped her into her shift and robe, “ He will listen to you, I’m sure,” she said, in a hushed voice. They can never be too careful here, the Spider creeps within the walls.

“ I hope so,” She looked to her handmaid. Anyse was a good ten years older than she, and she had lines at the corner of her mouth and made her smiles as charming as her eyes, “ Doran was always cautious. He will not make any move that he thinks will be too costly,”

“ But he is your brother,” Anyse turned around to pull her own shift on, and shook her hair for a moment, sending a spray of water to the carpet, “ He will do all he can to make sure you are safe,”

“ I know, I know, but he may not think that keeping me safe and helping the King are the same thing,”

Anyse opened her mouth to say something but quickly decided against it, and Elia nodded in understanding. She did not have any reason to aid the dragons other than that they were family by law, and her children are Targaryens. 

Elia stepped to her handmaid and passed into her hand the little roll of paper, “ Hurry now, and make sure none sees you,”

“ Of course, my lady,” Anyse bowed her head and quickly padded out of the room. 

_I will burn you all,_ cried the voice of King Aerys.

She pulled her robes closer around her and closed the shutters of her window.

_Green flames._

Elia crossed the room and stepped to her bed where Rhaenys was curled up with Aegon.

_Screaming._

She kissed both their heads and whispered that she loved them into their ears.

_I will burn you all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (( sorry this chapter was late; and i expect that from now on they will come along slowly as i get busier. i will still try to post three chapters per week tho! :3 ))


	10. Doran IV

The sea wind blew and gusted about, and Doran was sure that if he was not careful, the wind could easily carry him off the cliff edge and throw him into the sea and rocks below. The ocean itself swirled below against the cliff face, charging and crashing. He could see that the waters were rough and dark, as Autumn seas were like to do. If the wind pushed him off, and if the rocks did not kill him, would he be able to swim in such stormy waters?

“ There, just on the horizon,”

“ Yes, I see them,” Doran told his Cousin Maron, squinting his eyes against the wind, “ Have they made contact ? Sent any message or terms?”

“ None,” Said Maron , “ Not yet,”

“ How many?”

“ We counted two war ships and four galleys,”

“ Enough to halt trade into Sunspear,” He nodded, then turned to his Fleet Admiral, Myria. She stood taller than he, and her long dark braid whipped about in the wind, “ News from the straits?”

“ Ports along the northern coast of Dorne have reported a sharp drop in business. Merchants that have sailed to Kings Landing are turned away at Blackwater Bay, oft times without their cargo and wares. The Mad King is stealing from us- and he expects us to send spears to fight for him and men to die for him ?” 

Doran looked at her, “ Mind your tongue Admiral, even here,”

“ I do not fear the Mad King’s wrath,” 

“ Neither do I- not for myself. For my family, for my people, for Dorne, however, I quake,” He said, ” I know that caution is better than carelessness,” 

“ There is no chance that the Dragons will win this war,” She argued, “ The rebels have the full support of half of Westeros, and the Mad King has only a handful of men that lick his boots. The Tyrells, are the only ones who pledged full support of the Dragons, yet they are more content to sit on their fat arses and trade grain for the crown’s gold than to fight. We should take our ships and attack them- stop them before they could turn any trader away. Show those Dragons that we will take no insult on House Martell and we will not be cowed by a Mad King,”

He stepped away from the edge of the cliff and Areo fell in beside him, “ The tide may yet turn for or against the Dragons- and until we hear word of the results at the Trident, we will be cautious and subtle, in word and in action, “ Doran turned his head to her, his tone firm and final, “ Do you understand?”

Admiral Myria nodded, her lips pursed. _She has no respect for me_ , thought Doran, _as she ought to feel. I have only been Prince for a year, and i have done nothing to earn that respect. A tough and merciless land breeds tough and merciless people. My people's blood runs as hot as the desert sun, they are driven by emotion, passion and anger and. Like wolves, they do not submit to another solely on the reason of birth and blood. They will only show their throats and put their tails between their legs once the other showed that they are stronger. It’s unfortunate that I was never the best at arm wrestling. Oberyn at twelve had beaten me in arms and weapons, and I am ten years his senior. I will never earn this one’s respect that way._

He reached for his horse’s reins and vaulted onto his saddle, “ Ride with me, Admiral, cousin,”

They and Areo got onto their horses and Doran waited for them before sending his own horse into a trot. They fell quickly into step, riding on his left and on his right and he turned to his admiral, “ Send three officers to speak with the commander of this little fleet. Be courteous, bring a cask of our best wine as a sign of good faith. Ask why the fleet is here, and if the answer is to blockade us, tell your officers to order the King's men to leave. They will not leave of course, and if so, tell your officers to argue with them for a while before relenting and allowing them to stay to carry out the King's commands for the sake and safety of Dorne,”

“ And if their answer is a lie- if they state their purpose to be other than a blockade?”

“ Then leave politely,” He replied, “ The aim of this is to give them the impression that we will do nothing to stop them. They will expect resistance and they will believe that a few strong words are all we can muster in a fight,”

“ My Prince- To give them the impression that we are weak-,” His cousin said, aghast and he saw that the admiral's frown had grown deeper.

“ Let me finish,” Doran’s words were sharp, “ Send your three officers. They will expect some sort of welcoming party and argument, and once they get that, and think that they've won, their guard will be let down. Wait for seven days, no earlier, and once their captains and crew are bored and negligent, send three of your most trusted men to board the mothership in secret. It will not be too difficult to hide in such a big ship, not when one looks like a common sailor, I am sure,”

“ No,” The admiral nodded slowly, her face thoughtful, “ It will be easy. I know it from experience. I will board the ship myself,” 

“ Good. Set explosives at the main mast, and two below deck to split the ship in half,” Doran said, “ I need not spell the rest out, I trust, Admiral,”

“ Only the mothership?” asked Cousin Maron.

“ Only one,” Doran confirmed, “ We don’t need to destroy nor harass the other warship nor the galleys. The blockade will be rendered ineffective with one ship less. Trade will flow and they will not dare attack Sunspear's harbour and fleet with only one warship. Oh, before I forget. Cousin, I trust you to find your best archers and hunters to travel with the officers on their ship. Task them with shooting any raven that flies from any of those ships,”

“ If a bird manages to escape and carries word of the destruction of a King’s ship to the Red Keep?”

“ Let me worry about that, Cousin,” Doran smiled assuringly. There was no need to divulge on information that neither of them need to know. For every pair of ears, there is a mouth, " Just do your best to stop the ravens, and please ready the city's defences, just incase these ships try anything... daring. Ah, and one more thing, Cousin. There will be those who are loyal to the Dragons, and will no doubt kick a fuss once they hear the King's warship has been destroyed. See to it that they are kept silent, and none listen or believe their words. I must have Sunspear with me, at least,"

Maron nodded and turned his horse to the path that led down to the city. 

" Admiral Myria," Doran stopped his horse and reached his hand to her. There was a moment of hesitation, but she took his hand and he squeezed hers firmly, " Thank you, and please be careful. Remember, strike no earlier than seven days. That is a command,"

She bowed her head, " I will not fail you my Prince,"

He let her go, " I know that you won't," And with that, the Admiral wheeled her horse around and trotted after Cousin Maron. 

Satisfied, Doran urged his horse into a canter up the road leading to the castle. Areo rode close beside him, his armour gleaming bright in the sun. His held his large steel pole-axe in his right hand while he steered with his left, and Doran doubted he will ever stop being in awe of such a feat. 

" Your face tells me that you wish to say something, Captain," Doran said after a minute.

" I... My Prince, I apologise," Areo frowned, his words heavy with the throaty Norvosi accent, " Can I speak ? I do not mean to be.. uh... Disrespectful," 

" Please, speak,"

" Is... it not better to ... make sure those ships.... not sail? Instead of... destroying them,"

" What do you mean?" Doran raised a brow at his Captain, " You mean burn their sails and destroy their oars?"

" Yes,"

" I have thought of it. But it will provoke the King all the same in the end. Either way I will have to risk the consequences for defying the Mad King- I may as well pick the path that will require fewer men, thus putting fewer men in danger,"

Areo Hotah nodded, " Just so, My Prince," 

The gates were drawn open and they rode into the courtyard. It was a small one when compared to those of the castles of the other great Houses, but Doran saw the practicality of it. Should the castle's gates be broken, there will only be so many of the attacking force that would be able to enter and they would have to stand close together, thus making them easy pickings of boiled oil and flaming arrows from the walls above. But what the castle lacked in width and breadth, it made up for it, and then some, in height. Two towers reached skywards above them, spears piercing through the sun. The rest of the castle was built three stories tall at the very least.

Two stable boys came scrambling to meet them and hold their reins once they drew to a halt, " General Allyrion is here, my Prince," one said, " Maester Jaeherys sent him to your solar,"

Doran dismounted and thanked the boys before walking inside, " Areo," He turned to his captain as they stepped through the great hall, " Please find Tara for me, and make sure she is well and safe and still working within these walls. I need to make sure she's still the Spider's little bird. See to it that she hears from the other servants that Dornish spears will be moving Northwards to aid the King. Do it subtley, but make sure she hears it that it came from my own mouth and reports it to the Spider,"

Areo tapped the butt of his pole axe against the floor, " Of course, my Prince," and bowed his head.

Doran climbed up the steps, climbing three floors before coming to his solar.

Gerald Allyrion was standing by the windows when he entered, and gave a slight bow, " My Prince," The man was a good two score years older than he, with more white than copper in his beard and hair. 

" Thank you for riding here so quickly, General," Doran waved a hand at a chair by the window as he stepped to him " Please sit,"

He nodded and sat when Doran sat, " May I know what would warrant such an urgent raven, my Prince?"

Doran poured some wine into two glass goblets and handed on to his general, " The King is demanding Dorne to send more men north. Fifty- thousand, he said, else my sister and her children will be harmed and the dragon's fleet on our horizon will move in and take Sunspear,"

General Allyrion's eyes grew wide and his lips grew thin, " We do not have fifty thousand, even before this war began. We cannot-,"

" No, we cannot," Doran said, " But we will send fifteen thousand, but bring enough horses and food trains, and build enough campfires, for fifty thousand,"

The general frowned, " You mean...,"

" Yes, I mean what Ii mean. I also understand we have nine thousand all along the mountains, yes? Mobilise them to gather at the Boneway and the Prince's Pass. There they will wait for the second half of the army, which will take some time to reach the mountains,"

" Three weeks, at the very least, if they come from the southern coast,"

" It will be a valid reason to linger at the Passes,"

" What do you mean?"

" I do not intend to send our men past our borders,"

The lines on Allyrion's face grew deep, " But... if the King finds out that we are not sending an army to aid him, he will-,"

" I have taken measures to prevent any severe consequences upon our people," He smiled, leaning forward slightly, " Please, the aim of this is to stall for time while I prepare these measures. So all i ask, is trust, secrecy and the execution of this plan without fault. As your Prince and Liege lord, and for the memory of my mother whom you cared dearly for,"

Allyrion nodded slowly, his voice and face solemn, " As you command, my Prince. Is there anything else?"

Doran rubbed his jaw, closing his eyes for a long while as he pictured the map of Dorne, and the rest of Westeros. He saw the map like a cyvasse board, and his mind began whirring as he thought of the possibilites. He tried to think about every action, and every consequence. Every situation and act had a chance of success, and failure, and he thought about how to make the most out of both results. He thought of Oberyn and Elia, of Admiral Myria and Cousin Maron, and of ravens, spiders and dragons. 

And most importantly; to side with, or abandon, the King.

Elia's words on that little roll of parchment whispered to him, _'It doesn’t matter now that Rhaegar has betrayed me. Please, what matters now are Rhaenys and Aegon. Please, they are all that matter,'_

He needed to be careful. One misstep here- if he misses a single detail...

His next words were careful , " Our men will focus on the defence of the passes, should there be an invasion of any kind from the North... should the Targaryens win this war,"

" And should they lose?"

Doran took a moment, weighing his thoughts once again, " Defend the passes. We will side with neither. Robert Baratheon will be hunting for my niece and nephew, and as long as he does, he will be no friend of ours," Doran thought of Jon Arryn and wondered if he will be able to quell Baratheon's rage against the Dragons,"

" And Elia, what of her? She is still in King's Landing,"

" As I've said. The mobilisation of our troops is to appease the King and to buy Elia, her children, and our people, time," And Oberyn...

The general nodded, " We will gather and hold the Passes,"

" Bring the second half of the army by the northern coast," Doran added, " Should the Dragons attack us from the straits, we will be able to stop them,"

" Yes. I'll ready the defences along the coast," He drank deeply from his glass, falling silent for a moment before saying, " Is there anything else, my Prince,"

" No," Doran breathed, managing another smile and reaching to shake the man's hand, " Thank you, General,"

" Of course," Allyrion stood, letting him go, and bowed his head.

Doran got up as soon as the general closed the door behind him, and the Prince stepped to his desk. He got a few sheets of paper from his drawer and opened a fresh pot of ink. 

_One misstep..._

He settled on his chair and began to write to Ser Lewyn's Paramour, Anyse. He was taking a leap of faith with her- but if his uncle trusted her with Elia, so should he. 

The letter was short, no more than five sentences, but it took half an hour to write. He told them to be prepared to leave at any point, to secure all escape routes from the capital now, as it may be very dangerous to be Dornish in the King's Landing in a week's time. He also wrote to alert them of Oberyn, and to ensure that should he arrive before they leave, his prescence will be kept a secret. Should he arrive after their escape, someone should be there to warn him lest he becomes a captive as well. His habit of caution forced him to use references from Elia's childhood that only she could understand. He used the games she and oberyn used to play as children when it came to explaining their need to escape; hoping that her memory will recall the more memorable of their games. He also used names that she called Oberyn whenever she was angry with him when he wrote of their brother. 

It wasn't foolproof, and surely the Spider will know of this letter even if the raven flew to the Sept of Baelor instead of the Red Keep, but it was better than nothing.

So, he sanded the letter and rolled it and placed wax and seal on it. As he did, Areo opened the door and stepped inside, " My Prince,"

" Is it done?"

" Yes," said his Captain, " She has heard of it, and I spotted her retreating to her room,"

" Good, thank you, Areo," Doran nodded, staring at the empty sheet of parchment on his desk. His mind wandered across the maps again, and found the Lannisters in the Westerlands. The Lions have been sitting and watching from their Rock throughout the war. Tywin Lannister had no reason to love the Mad King but he did not join the rebels, and instead remained firmly unaligned. It made Doran uneasy; as the unknown oft makes men feel. The Lannisters can turn the tides should they choose to enter the war, and knowing Lord Tywin, Doran knew that the man wanted power above all else and was not afraid to do whatever to achieve that aim. He will side with the winning party, that much was certain. Perhaps he was waiting for the Trident, before he unsheaths his blade and shows his claws.

He tapped the feather against the table, his eyes staring emptily out the window and to the stormy skies above.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fresh out of the oven. i know im late! i've been super busy painting the martell siblings all week u . u (shameless self promotion --> [martells here](http://princedorann.tumblr.com/post/92729914095/doran-elia-and-oberyn-martell-click-for-high))
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> anyway, some notes on this chapter
> 
> so to explain doran's plan; because his mind can be confusing. First understand that he means to defy the Crown, as well as protect elia and bbys and his people. and so by defying, he will receive punishment for it. 
> 
> First is the blockade and attack on sunspear. he deals with that by sneak attacking on the ships. rendering them ineffective. (in one week, which will give time for word of the dornish march northwards ample time to spread and reach the King's ears (via Tara) before the word of the Dornish defiance and destruction of a warship). 
> 
> Second consequence of defiance is elia and bbys getting thrown into wildfire. He deals with this by 1) sending oberyn, which he still hasn't heard news from so he assumes that oberyn needs more time. 2) by appeasing the King and sending a mock army north to help the targs, but really they're just gonna chill at the border. and so buying oberyn and elia a little more time. 3) by telling Anyse to ready their bags and be available to bolt at moments notice and soon. 
> 
> The army will take two+++ weeks to get the the mountains, and they will follow the northern coast. There, in case the targs decide to attack, at least the northern coast will have an army that can act. 
> 
> should either side win the war, dorne is ready to defend herself. from land and sea. and should anything happen at the borders, they can always use the desert. 
> 
> but he has a back up deal with jon arryn, so if things are cool with robert and elia and bbys. doran will be cool too. 
> 
> hope that explains it for anyone who didn't get it the first round! Doran is a fascinating head to get into tbh. i feel smarter just by getting into his mind. 


	11. The White Sun

His hand gripped tight the hilt of his blade, his eyes watching the eyes of the men who stood around. Thousands of eyes; a million thoughts. Did they truly believe in this cause- do they hold any loyalty to King Aerys and Prince Rhaegar, or were they only sheep herders and farmhands who were forced by their lords to fight, and would much rather return to their little homes and simple lives? Did it matter? Any of them could be a traitor, a Rebel in the cloaks of black and red. 

He had learnt long ago that fearing every shadow of a blade would only drive him made, as it did with his King. Tonight however, there is no thing as too much caution. The Rebels are camped on the opposite bank, and battle was sure to begin at dawn. _If anything should go wrong tonight, if anything should happen to the Prince tonight..._

Ser Lewyn Martell straightened his back and forced the thoughts from his mind. _Robert Baratheon was not a man to send an assassin to murder his enemies,_ Ser Lewyn told himself, _He will want to meet him on the field and in honest battle._

He turned his head and saw Barristan Selmy and Jonothor Darry, their faces as stern and hard as his own. If his brothers were as anxious as he was, however, he could not tell. It was the wait- the knowledge that they had a full night to sit through before plunging into battle and blood that made Ser Lewyn uneasy. It was a mix of fear, of excitement and impatience. He wanted to feel his blade _sing_ in his hand once again, but before he could, he had to live through the dark night, tensing at every moving shadow that approached the Prince's person or tent.

Lewyn had insisted that the Prince allow them to search every man who approached him as he toured the war camp, but Prince Rhaegar only smiled and shook his head, " If i cannot trust them here, how am i to trust them on the field tomorrow,"

 _You may trust them, but we do not have to,_ Ser Lewyn of the Kingsguard wanted to say, but he kept silent and nodded to show his obedience. 

Prince Rhaegar spoke to the men, young and old, high born and commoner. His words went somewhere along the lines of, " Are you well?" Or, " What is your name?" And, " Where are you from?". Once, he even sat by a camp fire and listened to the men who sat around it, laughing at their stories. The Prince was dressed simply, a simple chain mail under a plain leather doublet, and the only feature that marked him apart from the men around him was his silver hair, tied neatly back.

Some of the squires, Ser Lewyn noticed, were more fascinated and more interested in he and his brothers. One even approached Ser Barristan but the he only gave a firm, " Not right now, boy," and the squire quickly stepped away and whispered excitedly to his friends. 

The Prince wandered about the camp for a good hour, meeting hundreds and seeing a thousand, and it was only until he was back safely in his tent that Ser Lewyn and his brothers could breathe. Ser Jonothor offered to take the first watch and told Ser Lewyn and Ser Barristan that he will wake them once he tires. They thanked him and made their way to a nearby tent of white and gold. 

Their squires helped them out of their armour and Ser Barristan retired to his bed to unsheathe his sword and ran a whetstone along it's blade. Lewyn allowed in the captains of the Dornish ranks and spoke briefly to them, asking them if everything was in order and if there had been any desertions. There were none, but one captain believed that there will be a few men missing by morning. Ser Lewyn told them to keep their men together, and have guards posted, to ensure that none flee before dawn. He also reminded them to make sure that the wine casks are tightly sealed away. Ser Lewyn will not allow any soldier, much less his own countrymen, to embarrass the King and to enter battle drunk or vomiting their stomachs out. 

Once the captains were dismissed and silence returned to the tent, Ser Barristan spoke, " You should be with the Prince tomorrow,"

Lewyn loosened the laces on his leather jerkin, turning his head to his brother, " I should, and I wish to be," He began, " The King has commanded me to lead my countrymen in battle, however, and I swore to obey the King," Truth be told, the command was also made alongside a threat. He remembered his King's words, that Princess Elia was his prisoner, and he will not hesitate to hurt her should Ser Lewyn refused command of his people. The command itself was acceptable enough, but what made his teeth set was the fact that his King threatened his niece and her children. If he had not had his white cloak fastened about his shoulders, and if he was not sworn to the King, Ser Lewyn would have drawn his sword then and there and returned the threat onto the King's life. 

Barristan Selmy's eyes studied him, the lines under them made him look solemn and sad. He knew the truth; there were no secrets amongst he and his brothers, " Do your best," he said, " It is all you can do for her,"

" No, that isn't enough for her- We have to win,"

" Then do your best, Lewyn," Barristan smiled encouragingly, " It all any of us can ever do. Nothing more,"

Lewyn sighed and sat on his bed, rubbing his palms against his face, " I hope, for her sake, that my nephew sends more men. We need more spears if we are to put an end to this war,"

" What we need more is luck, and the successful execution of wartime strategy," replied Barristan, sliding the whetstone down the other face of his blade, " We can do without extra men if we have those,"

Lewyn nodded, agreeing, " Best sleep brother, you can do that later when you take the watch," Then, he smiled, " Perhaps, should we win this war, I promise that I will ask my niece to invite Ashara to Kings Landing, to be her handmaid once more. Imagine that when you fight tomorrow,"

Barristan flushed in embarrassment and his eyes shot a glare at him, " We vowed-,"

" Not to wed or father children," Lewyn laid back in his bed, " Nothing about looking at a woman or kissing her every once in a while,"

" You may have Anyse, but I'm not like you,"

Lewyn laughed and closed his eyes, " Better to regret the things that you've done than to regret the things you haven't,"

" Be quiet," Ser Barristan sheathed his blade once again.

" Just want to make sure you have another reason to fight and live through tomorrow, brother," 

There was no reply and soon the tent grew dark and Lewyn drifted to sleep. He was woken by his squire after what felt like a single moment, and he pulled his mail onto his tunic and let the boy fasten his breastplate and cloak onto him. Next were his greaves and vembraces, before retrieving his sword and shield. Ser Jonothor looked up as he approached and nodded wearily before stepping away from the Prince's tent without another word. 

Ser Lewyn asked his squire to bring him a pitcher of water and some bread as he took his place. The camp was silent, and the stars were out, shining brightly above. It reminded him of nights on the Deep Sands, where the stars will stretch endlessly over the dunes, and all one felt was awe and peace. He remembered feeling, as he stood alone amongst the dunes, that suddenly, every problem the world suffered through was small, and temporary, compared to the infinity and the eternity of the skies and the stars. He hoped that someday he can return to Dorne, and return to those sandy dunes. He would be glad to die there. 

He took to sharpening his blade, and soon, Barristan joined him wearing his full armour, and they spoke about the posibilities they may face on the morrow. They joked about charging ahead and finding Robert Baratheon themselves, ducking and dancing around his gigantic warhammer tiring him before slashing his throat open. They spoke of their enemies, those knights and lords they were once friends and drank with. They exchanged what they knew about them, should they met their old friends in battle. 

Soon, the sky began to grow light and horns began to blow. The camp then came alive; boys and men scrambled about, shouting and speaking with each other. The sound of spears and swords and shields and plate armour and chainmail soon rang and joined the cacophony. Ser Barristan slipped into the Prince's tent, and the Prince's squires soon arrived. 

The sun was peaking through the clouds when Prince Rhaegar stepped out, " Where is Ser Darry?" He asked Ser Lewyn.

" He is preparing, Your Grace," Ser Lewyn replied.

The Prince nodded and took a breath, turning his head to look around him. His armour was made of beautiful onyx steel with brilliant ruby inlays while his helm was fashioned in the shape of a dragon head, " Has there been any movement across the river?"

" They are getting ready, the same as us,"

" Good," the Prince's voice was a whisper and he stepped down the hill, Ser Lewyn and Ser Barristan trailing after him. Ser Jonothor joined them as they reached the foot of the hill, bowed his head to the Prince and waved for their horses to be brought to them. The Prince's commanders and captains came to gather around him, to give their reports and to make readjustments to their plan after observing the Rebel army. 

Ser Lewyn brought the Prince's stallion to him before mounting his own destrier. Often, he would prefer to ride his palfrey, but he knew that the mare's speed will not count once he is stuck in a swarm of soldiers, hacking away at the heads below him. 

The Prince dismissed his commanders and they rode to the river bank, where their army was quickly forming rank. The sky was turning pink and purple then blue when the lines fully formed and when Prince Rhaegar urged his stallion to ride along the ranks.

Then, Prince Rhaegar spoke, his voice carrying clear and loud over their heads, " My Friends," the Prince began, in a voice that was enough to lift any heart and calm any fear. " Here, I am not your Prince, but your brother, in blood and in arms. Here, on this ground, we will be united in purpose- Here, we will defeat those who wish to undo all we have built and destroy all we have dreamt and steal from us all that we have loved. Here, we will defend and protect all we hold dear- our homes, our wives and our children- from those who wish for their deaths,"

He pulled his sword from its sheathe, the blade shining brightly as dawn's rays kissed its steel, " I know your fear, brothers. I feel it in my chest, twisting my spirit and stealing the warmth from my skin- If i had a choice, I would not stand here- yet here I stand. Here we all stand, and that alone, is evidence and proof of true bravery and strength, and I know no higher honour than to stand here and to fight beside you, the greatest warriors this land has ever seen,"

" Here, we stand against fear. Here, we stand brave. Here, brothers, _we will live forever!_ " The Dragon Prince thrust his sword into the air and every man erupted in cheers. 

They called, " Long Live the King!" They shouted, " Long Live the Last Dragon!" and they screamed " Death to the Rebels!". They banged their swords against their shields, and they pounded their spears against the ground, " _Prince Rhaegar! Prince Rhaegar! Prince Rhaegar!_ "

Ser Lewyn breathed when he felt the ground trembled, and he heard the same shouting and screaming from the east side of the ford. He caught the Prince's eyes and bowed his head before looking to his brothers and clasping their arms.

" See you at the end brother," Said Ser Jon Darry.

" Don't die," Ser Barristan Selmy said, with a slight smile, " You promised,"

Ser Lewyn Martell grinned, " Just keep the Prince safe," Then, he wheeled his destrier around and hurried to the other end of the line to appear infront of his own people, the sea of orange, gold and red. They called his name and raised their spears as he waved his own blade and stabbed it towards the rising sun.

" For Elia!," He shouted and he was echoed by the roar of ten thousand voices, " For Elia! _For Elia!_ "

Horns blew and bellowed, deep and loud and there was a single moment of glorious harmony before both armies plunged into the ford.

Ser Lewyn took his country men north, rounding about the Rebel's flank before crashing into it. Water splashed up under his destrier's hooves just as blood spilt from a man's neck and coloured his blade. He cut through the ranks, his sword making swift arcs through the air, singing as it cut the heads from the shoulders. Some that wore no plate or chain had their chests cut open, whenever they tried to reach their blades up to cut at his legs. Around him, his countrymen's spears were stabbing through the slits of helms, splitting the rebel's armours open, finding brain and heart. 

The waters soon turned red and Ser Lewyn twisted his destrier around to meet the sword of a knight. Their swords sung their shrill song and it wasn't long before the knight's scream ended the sweet hymn. Ser Lewyn then dove back into the rebel's ranks, and he saw that his line was squeezing the rebels in. 

" For Dorne! For Elia!" He shouted as he raised his sword and swung it downwards and cut open a man's face before his axe can land on his destrier, " For Dorne!" He killed another and another and another. His heart drummed in his ears and his vision became a swath of brown and grey and red, red, red. He stabbed and he slashed and he twisted his reins around and he charged ahead and his heart sung with his blade. This was what he was meant for, " For Dorne!"

Somewhere, his shield had dented and shattered and he lost it to the waters. He killed another knight with a bright purple surcoat and as soon as he did his horse shrieked and reared and he fell into the blood and mud.

His vision was white and he realised that he was crazed with pain. He coughed and tasted blood, rust and iron. He found his blade in the waters and gripped it tight. 

_Get up._

He pushed himself back on his feet, his body felt heavier than lead and he could feel his entire being trembling beneath the plate steel. Every breath rattled through him and his world was spinning, tilting and turning.

" To me!" He heard his voice order his men, " Bring me another horse!"

Blinding white on red; deafening red on white.

" To me!"

He swung his blade upwards to parry an axe, throwing the man backwards, before thrusting it into the mans stomach, cutting through his mail and slashing him open. 

" To me!"

He found a shield and lifted it from the waters, and used it to catch a boy's sword and to beat him back before splitting him in half, shoulder to stomach. He pulled his blade from the boy's body and suddenly the ground shifted and he fell once again onto his hands and knees, blood spilling from his mouth and into the mud water.

_Get up. For Dorne. For Elia and her sweet babes._

He gave a cry and forced himself to stand, finding another man and slicing his back open. Around him, horses and men were a whirlwind; a flurry he could no longer make any sense of. There were songs of steel, and screams... screaming... blood... and horns... 

He turned his head when he saw a man charge at him, and lifted his sword just in time to stop the man from splitting his skull open. The man roared when he threw their steel free and brought a fury of strikes against Ser Lewyn's blade. Their song was bitter, and Ser Lewyn felt his body grow heavier and slower as every blow shook him, bone and marrow. 

The horns...

Ser Lewyn threw all his strength into pushing his rival back as their blades met, but the man only staggered back, and before Lewyn could take the opportunity to slash at his naked throat, he felt a sword go straight through his middle.

He saw dark eyes glaring at him.

" Robert Baratheon!" the world screamed.

He saw the dark sky above him.

" The Prince is dead!" the world shrieked.

_And he saw the stars again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hot off the keyboard, Special Lewyn chapter!!! ; v ; i love writing battle stuff, so this is a bit longer than the rest. (but i stg they're growing longer every week x__x )


	12. Elia IV

She spent the morning teaching Rhaenys how to read. Elia thought that the Maester tasked with tutoring her was far too impatient and scolded her for her mistakes more than she taught her how to correct those mistakes. Elia felt that soon, if Rhaenys continued under the short tempered tutelage of Maester Kiran, she would begin to believe that she was incompetent and dim witted, when she was a capable four year old, as intelligent as any other.

Today, they read about the Dragonknight. Rhaenys, of course, was more fascinated by the illustrations, colourful and beautiful. Elia used those pictures to help her remember the words the book used to describe the Dragonknight, so teaching her words like silver, armour and brave. They eventually managed to get through a page of text before Rhaenys exploded into a flurry of questions about the Dragonknight, as she often did whenever they read about him. 

“ Can I marry the Dragonknight?” was one of her daughter’s questions and Elia found her self laughing.

“ Ooo, do you fancy him?” She teased, poking her daughter’s side and getting a peal of laughter, “ You fancy him, you fancy the Dragonknight, _you fancy him_ ,”

“ I don’t! I don’t!” she screamed, trying to squirm away, “ Mama! Stop! I don’t fancy him!”

She wrapped her arms around her and kissed her cheek, nuzzling her affectionately until she was breathless with laughter.

It was then that the door creaked open and Anyse padded in, “ Elia-,”

The Princesses looked up and Elia tucked her hair back behind her ears, “ Anyse- is something wrong?”

Her handmaid climbed onto the bed and found and held both her hands, “ I think- Gods, Elia, I think I’m with child,”

Elia’s worry broke into joy, and she grinned brightly, “ Truly?”

Anyse nodded and squeezed her hands, and Elia felt a roll of paper against her handmaid’s palm, “ I haven’t had my blood for two moons now- and, I just _know_ that I’m carrying his child,”

Elia curled her fingers and took the little roll into her own hand before reaching around Anyse’s shoulders and pulling her into a hug, “ Oh, Anyse- He’s going to be so happy- I just know it,” 

“ You’re going to have a babe? Like Aegon?” Rhaenys asked, her voice an excited gasp, “ When can we see? When can we see?”

Elia combed her daughter’s hair, smiling for her, “ Do you remember when before Aegon was born?”

“ Yes?”

“ He was in my stomach for a while, remember?”

“ Oh,” Rhaenys’ mouth turned into a wide circle, “ We have to wait,”

“ Yes,” Elia kissed her cheek, “ Okay, why don’t you go take your bath, my stinky darling,”

“ I'm not stinky,”

“ Yes you are,” Elia scrunched her nose and coaxed her daughter off the bed, “ Go on, go on,”

Rhaenys hopped off the bed and scampered to the next room. Elia looked to Anyse, and whispered, “ Truly?”

Anyse shook her head and tilted her chin to Elia’s hand. The Princess sighed, somewhat disappointed. She would be glad to welcome a cousin, and she was sure that Doran would be more than happy to care for their uncle’s bastard in Sunspear. Ser Lewyn could see him or her whenever they visited Dorne, and in the Water Gardens the child could be lost amongst a hundred others and be hidden from the King. 

Elia uncurled her fingers and looked at the roll in her hand, before breaking the little orange seal with her brother’s insignia on it. 

Anyse lounged back against the pillows and propped her head up against her hand, “ It came from the sept,” She said, her voice hushed, “ It must be important,”

Elia scooted close to her handmaid and friend and pulled the parchment taut, “ Im so happy for you, Anyse,” She said aloud, “ Which should I start on first? Boots or mittens? I promise to work on my needlework just to make the babe a gift,”

Anyse laughed, “ A blanket, I think, winter is coming after all,”

Her eyes fell back onto the parchment, reading, _‘Sister, I hope you are well; I do not doubt the King is treating you graciously. I hope that once this war is done, and I pray that our victory will come soon, that you will be able to come to Sunspear. The water gardens are beautiful, we’ve built half a dozen new fountains and pools, and every time I visit the gardens, I can’t help but think of how you and Oberyn used to play here- It felt as if it was yesterday that I saw you two play a game that I think you called Nymeria, the Sun and the Dragon. You were playing with a poor Florent boy, he was playing the Sun, do you remember that game? Ah, forgive me, I’ve rambled far too much- This is what Princehood does to a man, I suppose. Nontheless, stay safe, sister. Know that I love you and I am doing everything I can grant us victory. Oh, if you happen to chance upon our beloved Dumbskull, please send my regards,’_

Elia rolled the parchment and curled a fist around it before laying back with Anyse, her mind racing. She knew that every word Doran ever said or wrote was deliberate and was never without purpose. She closed her eyes and searched through her memories, trying to remember the game Doran spoke of. She remembered a Florent boy in the Water Gardens, skinny legs and large ears. She remembered that she didn’t quite like him. He didn’t understand that girls weren’t just Princesses and people that boys should protect. She once kicked his shins for calling her a girl and because of that she couldn’t play with him. 

“ What is it?” Anyse whispered.

Elia sat up and untied her own hair, “ Please help me braid my hair, it’s getting unruly,” and her handmaid wasted no time to get up and stepping to the dresser, finding pins and a brush.

Yes, she did remember one game they played with the Florent boy. She played Nymeria, but the Florent boy thought that she was just like any Princess and made her hide in a cupboard castle while he went to kill the Dragon, that Oberyn played. Oberyn, who was supposed to fight and be killed by the Florent boy, broke his nose and tied him up before looking for her. He had been so angry that the boy had locked her way that he forgot that it was just a game. Did Oberyn save her? She couldn’t quite remember if she managed to get the door latch free on her own or if Oberyn did it for her. 

Anyse returned to the bed and began to brush the tangles from her curls. 

Then, she remembered calling Oberyn 'Dumbskull' after that, when she saw how badly he had broken the Florent boy’s nose, and she did indeed get out of that cupboard before Oberyn could find her. 

“ If you happen to chance…,” She mumbled to herself, before she realised; Oberyn was coming to Kings Landing. 

He was in Westeros? When did he arrive? Was he coming to get her? He must be, she expected nothing else from him, she knew him too well. She knew that Oberyn would never sit still if he knew how cruel the Mad King was, and that she was forced to remain under his care. 

She found herself grinning as she turned around and threw her arms around her handmaiden.

" M'lady?" Anyse sounded shocked.

She pulled away, and held her friend's hands once again, " It's Oberyn," she whispered as softly as her happiness would allow her to, " He's coming to King's Landing,"

Anyse's mouth fell open and she quickly closed it, " He is in Westeros? How much longer till he gets here?"

Elia shook her head, her smile fading and put her finger to her handmaiden's lips, " You must send someone to look for his arrival, and be sure he does not come charging into the Red Keep,"

Anyse nodded, and Elia leant back to look at the piece of paper in her hand, reading it once more to make sure she memorised it and understood it completely. Her heart skipped with excitement; soon she and her children would be free from the Mad King's wrath and whims and they will be safe in Dorne. The Targaryens could not conquer them even when they had dragons- they would scarce have any chance now. 

Yes, she could just see it, Rhaenys and Aegon growing up playing in the Water Gardens. 

She walked to the fireplace and threw the parchment into the flames, poking the logs to hide the letter. 

There was a loud creak and Elia looked up to see two guards standing at her door way. She swallowed and kept her face mild, as Anyse got off the bed and folded her arms, " Do you know how insolent it is to enter the Princess's chambers without knocking? I will be sure that-"

" Shut up, bitch," growled one from beneath his helm, and strode over to Anyse and grabbed her roughly by the arm.

Elia jumped to her feet, " What are you doing?"

" Get her," Said the first as he wrapped his arms around Anyse to smother her struggle, and the second guard crossed the room towards her. 

Elia stepped back, glaring at the guard, " You will not lay a single finger on me," But he grabbed her wrist all the same and when she made to fight, a slap cracked across her cheek, almost knocking her down. 

" Prince Rhaegar will have your head!," Anyse screamed.

" The Prince is dead," said the first as he clapped a hand over Anyse's mouth.

Elia turned her head to look at the first man, forgetting for a moment the hot stinging at her jaw, " What?" she breathed, but she got no answer but a rough tug as they dragged her and Anyse out the door. 

They went silently, hurried along the corridors by a sharp word or a careless hand. Elia caught her handmaid's eyes once, and saw the exact same fear she felt reflected in Anyse's eyes. Elia swallowed and straightened her back, even if her heart was threatening to fail her. 

Rhaegar was dead; her husband. Yes, she hated him for leaving and betraying her, but there was a time not too long ago that she loved him, or at least believed that she did. He sung to her when she was lonely, and treated her gently from the start. He never raised a hand or a single word against her. He cared for her every need, and held her warm whenever they did share a bed, and even as she remembered Harrenhall and the blue rose, her heart ached with grief. He was her husband.

The great hall seemed larger and the melted blades that made the Iron Throne seemed sharper and more deadly. Above them all sat King Aerys, his wiry silver hair and beard casting an ugly halo around him. He was picking at the skin on his hands, his scabs she knew; the scars and cuts he had received from the Iron Throne.

At the foot of the Throne sat the Spider and the Pyromancer, Rossart. Her heart abruptly dropped into her stomach and she turned her head, looking around to search for her children- _Please spare them, please leave them be._

She did not see them but that did little to ease her heart. The King will probably command them inside later, to use against her- or to make them watch as he burnt her.

There were some hundred people standing at the sides of the Hall, the lords and ladies of the Mad King. They are here for fire and blood.

" Stop," the King commanded as they approached the front of the Hall. Elia jerked her arm away from the guard's grip and stepped forward, straightening her back and ignoring the dull throbbing at her cheek and jaw. _I am a Princess of Dorne, she reminded herself, Nymeria's blood runs through me. If i must die, i will die brave._

" Your Grace," she began, curtseying and bowing her head, " You sent for me?," 

" Your uncle has failed to protect my som. He failed to kill Robert Baratheon," said the Mad King, " He has failed me,"

She breathed, swallowing her fear, " Where is my uncle?,"

The Spider answered, " Ser Lewyn was killed in battle. Prince Rhaegar was slain by Robert Baratheon,"

Elia heard a choked sob behind her and she bit her lip. She must not look back.

" Now, the Rebel scum marches south unhindered because of your uncle's failure!," the Mad King pointed at her, screaming, " And your brother! Your traitor brother has abandoned me! Had he done as I commanded him to, our victory would have been swift! This Rebellion would have been crushed before it could rise! They've failed me! Traitors! Burn them all! Burn her! _Burn her!_ ,"

Rossart stepped down with a tall pitcher of wildfire, and a circle of guards and shields formed a wall around her.

" No! Elia!" Anyse screamed, " Don't ! Please! Elia!"

She took a step back, her eyes stinging with tears as she watched Rossart break the wax seal on the cover, " No," She heard herself whisper as she took another step, " No, please," She felt cold steel at her back and the next thing she knew was the terrible pain in her knees as she fell against the marble floor. 

She saw the faces, the eyes, looking at her, seeing past her and he Hall was silent, save for Anyse and her stiffled cries. None would help her. They were here for fire and blood. 

_I'm going to die._

Rossart lifted the lid from the pitcher and the sharp smell of wildfire made her head spin.

_Gods, Oberyn-_

" Your Grace," someone said, " It would not be wise to kill her, My King. Prince Doran Martell is reported to have mobilised Dorne, sending fifty thousand northwards," 

Elia looked up at those words and saw the Spider speaking.

" What do you mean?" snarled the Mad King.

" A little bird has reported the mobilisation of Dorne to our cause. Prince Doran is sending every spear he has to our cause, and this has been confirmed by my other birds,"

The Mad King found Elia's eyes and glared, " Is this true?"

" Yes," Elia managed as loud as her voice trembling would allow her, " Yes, he is forever your loyal servant, my King- and he loves me. He would never disobey your grace for my sake," 

" Killing Princess Elia would cause Prince Doran to remove his support and fight for the Rebels instead," The Spider continued, bowing again, " Your Grace, for the sake of our future victory, spare her. Imprison her for a while longer until Dorne's armies arrive to fight for us,"

The King hissed, before waving his hand, " Take her away,"

Elia was pulled up onto her feet and Rossart capped the pitcher, turning away. As she was brought aside, her legs began to shake and she would have fallen again if Anyse did not catch her and help her stand. 

" Gods, Elia," Anyse sighed as they wrapped their arms around each other.

" I'm allright," Elia gasped, into her friend's shoulder, " I'm allright," 

" The Princess' handmaiden however," said the Spider, in his soft, tittering voice, " was Ser Lewyn's paramour,"

There was a slight whisper that spread across the room and Elia saw the Mad King frown, " So she has been poisoning Ser Lewyn against me? To fail me?"

Varys turned to the King and bowed his head, " Yes, Your Grace. She has been distracting him from his duty,"

Elia found Anyse's eyes and saw the deep fear in them, " No!" Elia said, stepping away, pulling Anyse with her, " Please, she's done nothing wrong!"

" This whore has been poisoning my own Kingsguard against me!"

" No- Please, Your Grace-,"

Anyse weeped, " My King, no- I never-," 

" No doubt Ser Lewyn has passed you mine own secrets! You've given those secrets to Robert Baratheon have you not?" The Mad King stood and stood, screeching, " Traitor! Whore! Burn her!"

" No! No! Never!" Anyse cried, " Please- I never!"

" Burn her!"

Elia fought against the guard who pried her away from Anyse, and screamed at the guard who dragged Anyse kicking across the hall, " Let her go! Let her go!"

Rossart brought the pitcher forward once again.

" Your Grace- Please! Please, she's done nothing!"

But her voice was only a whisper to the roaring silence of those who stood around her. 

The wildfire spilled out of the pitcher and caught flame as it fell onto Anyse.

" _No!_ " 

But Anyse was twisting and writhing as the fire consumed her; spinning and twirling. 

Her shrieks filled the hall, tormented, biting into every heart, bone and soul; deafening.

Green became her dress and emerald, her hair; haunting. 

Her beautiful face melted as her body crumpled and crumbled into ash; _silent._

" No," Elia breathed as she woke.

She found herself staring at the ceiling of her room, lace curtains around her- and she closed her eyes, chiding herself for dreaming such a grim dream. 

" You're awake," 

Elia turned her head and saw the Queen seated in the chair beside the bed, and immediately pushed herself up to sit, " Your Grace,"

" Shh," The Queen pushed the curtain aside enough for them to see each other's faces, " Do not exert yourself, my dear,"

She nodded, leaning back into her pillow, feeling faint, " May I ask why... Your Grace is here?"

" I just wanted to make sure that you are well," She touched her forehead gently, " After what happened...,"

" I'm sorry?"

Queen Rhaella looked at her sadly, " You fainted after ... after the King burnt your handmaiden,"

Elia's stomach turned and she felt bile rising up her throat, clapping a hand over her mouth. 

" Shh, lie down, my dear," said the Queen, helping her lay back, " Shh,"

It was a full minute before she could speak again, " Rhaenys? Aegon?"

" They are safe," Rhaella managed a faint smile, " They're in the next room,"

She closed her eyes, but the relief did little to staunch the piercing grief in her chest. She brought a hand up to brush at her eyes, wiping away the tears that have escaped. Anyse, she thought, remembering her smile and the lines at the corners of her mouth whenever she laughed. She remembered how they would speak endlessly for hours at a time in the bath and as they braided eachothers hair. She was her friend.

She then thought of her uncle and her heart twisted in her chest. He was gone, just like that. The man who used to pick her up and toss her in the air, who played the games she and Oberyn played, and who told them stories that scared them so badly that they couldnt sleep for nights. She was safe here with him, and now she was truly alone.

At least she and Uncle Lewyn were together now, or at least, so she hoped and so she believed.

Then, she saw the green flames and heard her _screams_.

" Drink," said the Queen as she helped a cup into her hand, and Elia leant her head up to tilt the water into her mouth. She managed to swallow a mouthful before setting the cup aside. 

" Thank you," 

" Of course," Rhaella found her hand and held it, " I will be leaving tonight,"

" Leaving?" 

" Yes, for Dragonstone," she whispered, " With Viserys,"

" Will you take Rhaenys and Aegon with you?" They would be safe in Dragonstone.

" No," Rhaella said, lines growing on her face, " The King has commanded you and your children to stay here,"

" But Aegon is his heir- and Dragonstone is much safer for him than here," her heart was racing and she felt the room begin to spin, " Please they're just children- if Robert Baratheon arrives here before my brother does-," she stopped herself, before realising that the Queen would think that she meant Doran- which she supposed was half of what she meant.

" I know," Rhaella's lilac eyes turned sad, " But... If anything... It is best to keep us spread out rather than in one place and I'm... I'm with child,"

She almost laughed if it wasn't for the tears stinging in her eyes. Anyse said the same thing, " Truly?"

" Yes," said the Queen, touching her belly, " Even so, I am sure that you and the children will be safe here,"

" Why?" She asked before she could stop herself. How was she in any form safe here? " I will never be safe here,"

The Queen was silent.

Elia felt sick and she lay her head back down and took a deep breath.

" I'll leave you to rest, my dear," the Queen pushed the chair back and stood.

" I'm sorry...," Elia said, her voice soft, " About Rhaegar," _If I had been a better wife to him, if I had been healthier, you would still have a son._

" Don't be," Rhaella gave her hand a gentle squeeze, " Take care of yourself- and the children,"

" Of course,"

The Queen turned around and crossed the room, and closed the door behind her.

Elia opened her eyes and saw her window- saw how dark it was outside, save for a thin crescent moon. She thought of her brothers. Was Doran truly sending fifty thousand spears north? She knew that Dorne didnt have that big of an army, nor was Doran one to throw men and women's lives away in battle. Perhaps it was feasible if Doran began drafting soldiers into the army, and that was what took him so long to respond to the King's commands. If it was true, Elia prayed that they would arrive in King's Landing quickly before the Rebels do.

And Oberyn... How sweet it would be to see him again. What if he was already in King's Landing and is waiting for the perfect moment to help her escape. She could see it, riding through the Crownlands and through the Deep Sands with him. Rhaenys and Aegon would love him, she knew. He always had smiles to spare and stories to share.

Then, her mind wandered back to Doran's letter and the game she used to play, remembering that she did manage to free the latch before Oberyn could reach her. 

Did Doran intend for this to have any meaning? She wouldn't put it past him, Doran was always the master of subtlety.

Intended or not, she knew that she cannot wait for Oberyn- he may be weeks away- weeks that her children may not have. 

She was not a girl who will wait in a tower for her knight. She was a Martell of Sunspear, the blood of Nymeria runs through her.

The blood of a warrior Queen.


	13. Doran V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (AND IM BACK. SORRY IRL THINGS TOOK LONGER THAN I THOUGHT. as an apology here's two chapters <333 )

The sea was the colour of the setting sun outside his window. He had been watching the bright red orb sink into the ocean for a minute now, as he waited for Arianne to finish her turn. 

" Father,"

He glanced back to the board, took a moment to study her move, feigned uncertainty in choosing a piece, before moving one a black elephant two places diagonally and taking a white light horse. 

His daughter blushed, " But-,"

Doran replaced the elephant and light horse on the coloured board. He then moved his finger over the game to illustrate, " See, you were too focused on getting your dragon through to my king that you forgot the closest threat, my elephant, approaching your king and being one move away from a checkmate," He plucked the light horse once again, " In cyvasse, and indeed in life, you should never focus on something until you forget and are blinded to all else. A princess should know this,"

Arianne frowned deeply and reached across the board moving her dragon to take his castle, " There, check,"

Doran's lips grew thin and touched his heavy horse.

Then, his daughter's eyes grew wide, " Wait- Wait I take that back father, don't kill my dragon,"

" You can't erase the past once it has passed," Doran said, before adding a gentle smile, " But this is a game, so go ahead; just this once, however," And Arianne took her dragon back to its original place and set the onyx heavy horse back on the board.

Silence fell between them as she furrowed her brow and thought. Doran turned again to the window and saw that the sun had touched the horizon. At his chest, he felt a strange mix of anxiety and sadness, a feeling that he could not shake since he woke this morning. It turned his day grey, made his food tasteless and caused his bones to feel heavy. Perhaps it had been due to his argument with Mellario the night before, or perhaps it was due to the news of the Loyalists' defeat at the Trident that he received two nights past. Perhaps it was both. Perhaps it was everything that had happened in the past year.

There was a knock on the door, and he heard Areo Hotah's deep Norvosi accent, " It is the Admiral, my prince,"

" Send her in, please," He looked to Arianne, " Into your room now, little one,"

His daughter made a face, " We will continue this won't we?"

" Yes, of course," He leant forward and kissed her cheek, " Go on now," And she did, her lovely curls bouncing after her as she went to the door, looking up to give Areo Hotah a smile and a wave.

Admiral Myria waited for the door to close behind her before stepping forward and lowering herself to one knee, " A raven has survived our arrows,"

" So it did," Doran nodded, " It was bound to happen," Their archers have kept word from escaping Sunspear for three days now since they sunk the King's warship; a feat in itself. The entire plan with the ships had worked. Trade spilled into their ports unhindered, as abundant as it has since the start of the war. There were few discontents in the streets, and they had easily repelled the Dragon's ships when they dared to threaten the city, " Stand and sit with me, Admiral,"

Her boots were heavy even on the carpets and she soon took Arianne's place on the seat in front of him. With her, she brought the smells of the sea, of fish and salty wind and open water. These smells brought a welcome flavour to the solar, but did little to sooth the disquiet in his chest.

The sky was turning dark, but there was a streak of purple and pink and red where the sun was.

He turned to her, " I have a task for you, Admiral,"

" Anything, My Prince,"

" Take our swiftest ship, and sail to Kings Landing in secret," 

" What will I be sailing for?"

" My sister," He said, pausing for a beat before adding, " And my brother," 

" Prince Oberyn? He is in Kings Landing?"

" I hope so," Doran set his elbows on the table, " He has gone to help my sister escape the capital. I did not plan their escape because I had counted on his and my sister's wits to make their own path. I also feared to bring anyone else into the fold. Understand Admiral, that I am placing great faith in your hands by telling you this. I am telling you this now because I fear that matters may spiral quickly out of control, and that i fear that there may be little chance for their escape. Now with the King's fleet sailing to Dragonstone, it will be much easier for a Dornish ship to sail into Blackwater,"

Admiral Myria nodded, " I will look for them in Kings Landing,"

" Keep your ears out for any news, keep updated in the best way you can, do you understand? Everything counts on the position of the Dragons and the Stags... and the Lions,"

" The Lions?"

" The Lannisters have remained neutral all year, favouring neither side," Doran toyed with a dragon made of onyx, turning it in his palm, " Yet they race down the Gold Road to King's Landing,"

" Perhaps to aid the King," the Admiral suggested, " After the Trident, the Mad King needs all the help he could get,"

" Those who do not know Tywin Lannister will think the same," he said carefully, " The West is the richest and the best armed of all of Westeros, however, they are not so numerous and powerful to be able to defeat the armies of three Kingdoms alone. I know Lord Tywin, and he goes to battle only to win the best prize and nothing less. Also considering the fact that he has the tendency to punish slights made against him... Lannisters always pay their debts, afterall,"

" My Prince...," Admiral Myria breathed, " You do not think...,"

" I do not know what I think. I can only anticipate and prepare. The gods can either prove one of my conclusions right or prove me wrong all together and slap me across the face,"

For some reason that made the Admiral smile, " The gods have the tendency of fucking us all over," She agreed, " I think it will be best if I wait for them in Storm's End. It will take a miracle and good winds for me to arrive in Kings Landing before the Lions or the Stags reach the city,"

Doran swallowed, he knew that it would have been a tight, 'I should've sent Myria sooner,' He thought and cursed himself for waiting too long, " Oberyn would take a land road if he could," No, he didn't know what his viper brother would do. Such was his nature, unpredictable and dangerous. Oberyn would do anything to make sure Elia was safe, but that did not tell Doran anything of his potential escape routes, " He will try to take the southern road,"

" Then I shall send riders up the road once I dock at Storm's End,"

He breathed, pressing his knuckles to his lips. 

The room had grown dark, and he could only make out the bare features of the Admiral infront of him..

" Yes," He said, " Do so. But my brother can be...,"

" Prince Oberyn will be Prince Oberyn, I understand," the Admiral said, " He is the type to throw all your plans awry too,"

Doran almost laughed, but instead, he coughed.

" Is there any way to send him a raven to look for me?" she asked.

" No, I do not know where he is as of right now. He was supposed to send me a raven once he arrived at the capital. I can send a raven to Elia, but i do not know if that will be the safest thing to do, for her sake,"

The Admiral nodded, " Is there anything else?"

" No, I trust you will do all you can to ensure my family will be brought home safely and swiftly,"

She stood and bowed her head, " My Prince," before turning and stepping out the door.

" Areo," He called, as soon as the door opened, " Please aid the Admiral in her task,"

The Norvosi captain looked at him, then Myria, before tapping the butt of his longaxe against the stone, " As you command,"

" Thank you," Doran stood from his seat and went to light the candles and sconces around the room. Soon, the darkness fled from the dancing fires. He gathered the letters on the table, stacked the papers, and set the cups of wine aside by the door so a servant may collect them in the morning. The tasked served to steady his restless mind. He hated not being able to do anything but sit, wait and anticipate- but worst of all, he hated not knowing. Where was Oberyn? Was Elia truly well and safe? What were they doing and are they planning anything? The lack of communication and information made him immobile as any chain would, and all he wanted was to have some magic orb or maybe a Red Priest that could see afar or see the future. 

But he knew better than to put any stock, much less the lives of his family and people, into magic.

" My dear," 

Doran turned to look over his shoulder, " Mellario, love," He said, carefully, trying to gauge where they stood after last night. Tonight, she was wearing silks from Norvos where the intricate patterns were woven in gold and silver, fashioned and cut in a Dornish style that flowed and danced at every move. She looked as beautiful as the day they first met, and Doran realised that though their marriage had been difficult for them both, he loved her, and could not imagine a life without her, " How is Quentyn?"

" He is well. He tried to walk earlier,"

" Oh?" He found himself smiling.

" Yes, though he is not so stubborn as Arianne was when she was learning to walk," Mellario stepped to him, " He began to weep after a few steps and that was that, at least for today,"

" Perhaps he is more like me that Arianne is. My mother used to tell me that I was a lazy babe and wouldn't walk even if I knew how," He reached for her hand and to his relief, she allowed him to take it, " Have you eaten?"

" No," she answered, " Lets?"

" I'm not hungry," Doran replied, " But perhaps I will be after a walk,"

She slipped her arm through his and they climbed down the steps together. For a long while, neither of them spoke, letting the silence fall around them instead. He found himself thinking of the raven that came two days past with news of the battle at the Trident. He thought about his Uncle and of his own people that spilt their blood and rested their bones there. He imagined Ser Lewyn leading the van, his white cloak flying behind him, where rows upon rows of bronze shields and the bright spears followed. He saw, in his mind, them crashing into the Rebel flank and dying. He can imagine the cacophony, the sheer chaos, that must have ensued when the Prince fell under Baratheon's warhammer. 

Doran had believed once that Prince Rhaegar would make for a better king than his father, that he will not fall to madness as his ancestors had done. Doran had hoped that he would survive this war to take the Mad King's place and return peace to the Kingdoms, with Elia as queen by his side. That had been their mother's hope and dream, one of her last.

But that dream was a fragile dream- so fragile that all it took to destroy it was a single blue winter rose. 

Perhaps however, there was still hope to salvage of that dream. Elia still lived, and so did her children. If Oberyn succeeds in bringing them to Dorne, Rhaenys will be queen in her own right. Baratheon may try to fight a war against them, to bring them to heel under his rule, but they will not survive both Sun and Spear. Dorne shall be independent once again, until Rhaenys is old enough to challenge for her birthright- and if not her, then Aegon.

All that seemed so far away, so fanciful, like a mirage of water in the desert.

A Prince of Dorne should know better, he scolded himself.

" I saw Areo leave the castle earlier," Mellario whispered suddenly, tearing him from his thoughts.

" Yes," He said, " I'm sending him with Admiral Myria,"

" Sending him where?"

" To help Oberyn and Elia escape,"

" Any news yet?"

" No,"

" No news is better than bad news, isn't it?"

He smiled and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She was a head shorter than he was and so she fit perfectly at his side, " I suppose," Another pause, " I'm sorry for snapping at you last night,"

" I'm sorry for snapping back," Mel said, " It takes both hands to clap, and so it takes two to argue,"

" Just so, my love. But I did start it, and you had every right to defend yourself," They reached the bottom of the steps and into the corridor that was flanked by the gardens. Cicadas sang, adding to the gently splashing of water from the fountains, " And for that, I am sorry,"

" I know you are worried; I see it in your face, don't try to feign bravery and hide it Doran. I know you," Her hand found his fingers and held them tight, " No one will dare harm your sister or her children. Not when they want to court the wrath of Dorne,"

" That is what I am afraid of. I'm afraid they will think me weak and take Dorne's wrath for a bluff," He felt his chest grow tight, and before he could stop himself, words came spilling from his tongue, " If Robert Baratheon takes the throne he will want to rid himself of any one who will challenge his claim. That will mean Elia's babes will have to die, as well as the Queen and Viserys. If he only wants kill the King, and does not want to take the throne for himself, then he will use Elia and her children as puppets and keep them prisoner to ensure Dorne's compliance. But it may not be his decision to make- the Lannisters will perhaps arrive at the capital before the Rebels do, and the motives of Tywin Lannister are unknown and unclear- and i hate not knowing. And Oberyn- he was supposed to arrive at Kings Landing two nights ago, what is taking him so long to write? What if he has been captured- what if-,"

Mellario let his arm go to step in front of him and take his face into her hands, her eyes locked with his, " Everything will be well, my love,"

And the way she said it made it seem that she knew her words to be true, that she knew them to be the future and the only future. 

And he almost believed her.

Doran closed his eyes and placed his hands over hers, " I'm sorry. I know. I'm losing my nerve. Perhaps I am hungry after all,"

He felt Mel's lips on his, a fleeting touch, but one that allowed him to breathe once again, " Everything will be fine,"

" Yes," He looked into her eyes, managing a smile as he brought both their hands down and held hers tight, " Everything will be fine,"

It was her turn to smile and she stepped away, guiding him forward, " We should take Arianne and Quent to Essos one day, spend a year or two there, travelling the Free Cities to. They must come to Norvos. They should meet their grandparents and play in the gardens I played in as a child, for Norvos is their home too. They should see the dancing bears and hear the bells and enjoy the festivals,"

Glad for the change in subject, he added, " Arianne would likely demand to ride one of the bears, perhaps even bring one back here as a pet,"

" A wilful child,"

" A true Martell,"

" You are a Martell too, my dear prince," She wrapped her arm around his own, and once more, she was beside him, " Do not forget; and you can be every bit as wilful, stubborn and hot headed as your brother at times. You are not so different, you and your brother,"

He raised his brows, " I like to think we are complete opposites and that we may never understand each other. It makes my relationship with him far less infuriating if I accepted our differences and stopped trying to change him,"

" No, not complete opposites," She grinned, as they left the gardens behind them and stepped into the dining hall. " It's such a pity that you think that. Well, at the very least, you both have the same nose,"

" We do not," 

" Yes, it is the exact same shape. I'll prove it to you once he returns," She said, " And to show you that I am not the only one who thinks the same, Elia will also look,"


	14. Elia V

The Red Keep was silent since the Queen and Prince Viserys sailed away to Dragonstone. Yes, the King's lords and ladies still lingered and flitted about their business, seeking favours, parroting phrases that called for the inevitable Loyalist victory; but the castle was dead.

Even Rhaenys had grown quiet and somber, sitting in Elia's bed chamber reading or drawing. Any attempts to cheer her only worked for a little while, and Elia suspected it was because she had heard the news of her father's death. Elia could not bear to tell Rhaenys herself, but the bells tolled for a whole day and there was little doubt that in her wanderings about the castle corridors she heard of his death from washerwomen and servants.

One night, just after sun down, Elia coaxed her with lemon cakes and combed and braided her hair. When that did not cheer her little girl, Elia finally asked, " Sweetling, do you know what happened to your lord father?"

There was a silence, as Rhaenys fussed with the hem of her sleeve, " Yes," she finally whispered, her eyes cast down to watch her fingers pick at the cloth.

Elia tied her braid and pulled her daughter to her lap, holding her. In her mind she had prepared for this talk, memorised the words she would say, repeated it in her head over and over, but those words now seemed out of place, wrong. Rhaenys did not need to hear that her father was a brave man, a gallant knight. She didn't need to hear that he fought for her, that his death will not be in vain. 

Rhaenys was a girl of four, and all she needed were arms to hold her and to show her that all will be well and that the world had not come to an end. 

And Elia almost wept when she realised that her daughter has been without that warmth when she needed it the most. 

So she pulled her daughter close as she curled into a little ball against her. She rubbed her back and stroked her hair and rocked her gently back and forth. Soon, she heard a sniffle and felt tears wet her dress.

" I miss him," Rhaenys sobbed, her hands balling up into little fists, " I miss him, mama,"

" I miss him too, sweet one," She hugged her closer and laid down, pulling the covers over them both, " Shh... Shh..."

" Why did he have to die?" she asked through her hiccups, " Father was not a bad man- only bad men are supposed to die,"

" Shh..." She bit her lip, trying to hold her own tears back, " Shh, everything will be fine. All the bad men will die in the end. Everything will be fine," She could not tell her the truth of it. How do you tell a four year old that she got everything backwards. It was never the bad men who die, but the good, the noble, and the honourable. 

Rhaenys continued to mumble and cry, and Elia could only rub her back and hold her warmly. Soon she quieted and Elia sang to her, whispering the words of an old lullaby into her ear. 

Only once she was sure her daughter was asleep did she carefully let her go, tucking her in. She saw, in the flickering candle light, the redness on the little girl's nose and around her eyes. She was too young to understand the war, too young to understand death. Gently, Elia kissed her cheek and climbed out of bed to light a few more candles. She peered into Aegon's cradle, and touched his soft hair as he slept soundly, undisturbed by grief. 

The boy had his father's face, just as Rhaenys did. Beautiful and perfect. It was then did she realise that Aegon was next in line. Of course she knew that he was the King's heir, but it only just dawned to her that if the King dies, Aegon will be crowned king. A babe no older than a year, a babe still in his swaddling clothes and cradle. 

The very idea filled her with dread.

If the most capable of men struggled upon the iron throne, then what more a babe. She remembered that once, King Aerys was also thought to be good and just, until betrayal and madness took him. Yes, she would rule in Aegon's stead until he reached manhood, and yes she would do her best, but she was not meant for the vipers pit of Kings Landing. Not only were there dangers in every whisper and shadow, but things were different here. She had little respect from anyone beyond the respect she is given for being married to the Prince. Men here took no charge nor command from a woman. How could she rule a kingdom if half of it could not look past her gender?

She swallowed and stepped to her dresser and found a dark wool cloak. She tied it about her shoulders and pulled it close. The nights had grown so cold, and she wondered if it was because winter would soon be upon them or if it was simply because Anyse was dead. At the bottom drawer, she removed her silk scarves and moved the false bottom to find a stiletto. She tucked it into her sleeve.

She hurried to the room adjacent to hers, where her bath and mirrors were. She pulled a tapestry aside and slipped into one of the Red Keeps many secret passageways. Anyse would use this one to creep out to find Ser Lewyn for their trysts in the White Sword Tower, or in some inn in the city.

Her friend's voice haunted her. Anyse had suggested that they take this passage to escape as soon as the King ordered her confinement in Maegor's Holdfast, but Elia knew that if they had been caught trying to flee, the King would have burnt them without a second thought. 

I should have gone then, she thought bitterly, I had Uncle then, and ten thousand Dornish spears and a true friend to protect me and my babes. And now I have none. 

She did not bring a candle with her, knowing that it may risk her being found, though she wish she had. The passage was dark and if it wasn't for her palm brushing against the wall to her right, she wouldn't know if or not she was moving at all. 

The wall gave way to a sharp corner and she turned, right palm against the stone as she walked. She heard a squeak and a felt a draft, causing her to tense. What if the Spider knew she was here- what if he had his little birds disguised as rats in these tunnels too.

She shook her head and steeled herself. Even if he knew, she can't give up now. The King had found and arrested the Dornish soldiers Ser Lewyn had left behind to protect her. This way was Rhaenys' and Aegon's only hope.

There was only her.

Soon she caught the smell of the cool night air and followed the walls towards it. Then, she found light, streaming through narrow slits in the distance. She hurried to it, her hands exploring the wooden frame and quickly finding iron latches at its top and at its foot.

She found herself in the Godswood. She pulled her hood over her head and strode beneath the shadows, guided by the moon's light. She could smell the seawater just beyond the Godswood, and wondered if she could find someone to wait for her and her children with a boat. But who? And if she paid someone, how could she trust them to carry her babes to safety?

Oberyn where are you?

But Oberyn wouldn't need a boat to wait for her. He would be swimming and floating about the cliff's edge, ready to catch her whenever she came to dive into the ocean, like how they used to do as children. And she couldn't help but smile at the memory and idea.

She turned when the path split, walking towards the city, glancing once or twice over her shoulder to see if there were any who followed or watched her. But she only saw the moonlit sentinels and heard the cicadas lazily chirping their songs.

She slipped through the city streets, her hands gathering her skirts and cloak and lifting them up lest they gather dirt or waste that littered her way. She did not want to give the washerwomen and the King any cause to believe that she left the Red Keep. The smell of the city was stronger here than it was in her chambers, far stronger. It smelt of sweat, of human waste, rot and smoke, and it was all she could do to hold her supper in. There was a time once, when she first married Rhaegar, that once she was Queen, she would clean the city, and implement laws that will keep it clean and sweet smelling.

She ducked into an inn, stepping inside from the back door. 

The first thing she noticed was how noisy it was. People were shouting and singing and it was so deafening that she could not make their words out. She pushed through the crowd as best she could without alerting anyone to her prescence. She found the stairs and climbed up.

And it was only then did she realise; they were singing the Rains of Castamere. 

She frowned, pausing mid step. It was quite a popular song amongst the people nowadays, but she wasn't sure if most knew the true story behind the song. Were they celebrating the coming of Tywin Lannister to save the King, or were they hoping that the Lion will take the head of the Dragon?

She left the question unanswered behind her and found the door at the end of the corridor. She needed to make sure that all was in place for tomorrow night. She pushed through it and found the Volantene merchant by the window, throwing the curtains close as soon as she entered. 

" What happened?" She asked when she saw the look on his face. The man was well into his thirties, and he had found her in the Godswood ten days past. He told her of his life debt to Ser Lewyn, his oath to aid House Martell. He told her he had been to speak with her brother Doran several weeks ago to warn him of the King's blockade of Sunspear. Elia knew she had little reason to trust the merchant, but what choice did she have? He was the only one willing to help her, and she would not turn him away.

" Lions outside the gates," the man, Qavo, replied in his thick accent, " They come sooner than I thought,"

She swallowed, " I must get my children," she stepped to the door, " We must leave tonight," She did not think the Lannisters would arrive so quickly. She had heard that they rode their horses day and night down the Goldroad, but was it not only yesterday that they crossed Blackwater Rush? She thought she had another day before making her escape. 

" Princess," Qavo stepped to her, " Be careful, I fear tonight,"

" Be ready to sail," She said, trying to say it as gently as she could to hide her anxiety. If the Lannisters have come to kill the Mad King, then they will come to kill her children too. If they had come to help, then she can still use the confusion of their arrival to mask her escape, " I will meet you at the docks within the hour,"

She left the room, pulling her hood closer over her face. She hurried back down the stairs, squeezing past a drunken man who tried to grope for her. The singing had grown louder as toasts went out to Tywin Lannister. They thought him their saviour. But Elia's stomach felt otherwise.

She went the same way she came, her feet taking her back to the Godswood as quickly as they could without running. There were teams of Goldcloaks rushing through the streets, their armours and mail clanking as noisily as their boots thumped. She ducked into a crook in an ally and waited for a group numbering a dozen to pass. 

She desperately hoped they were going to stop the Lannisters from entering the city.

She then thought of Oberyn, wondering if he was in the city, looking for her now. She forgot to ask Qavo of any news of him, but reasoned that if Qavo had known anything new, he would tell her. Oberyn will find a way to catch up to them, she told herself. She cannot wait for him any longer.

As she returned to the shadows of the Godswood, she heard the bells toll, quickly, shrilly. When she looked up, she saw a pillar of smoke rising to block the moon. She did not need to think twice to know what it meant. The Lannisters were through the gates, and they were attacking. She was right.

The tunnel entrance was as she left it, disguised behind a bush. She slipped through it, but didn't latch the door. She will need it to be opened easily for when she escapes. 

She placed her left hand on the wall to her left and followed it back up, no longer afraid of the deep dark around her. She feared for something greater now.

She knew that there must be fighting in the streets, perhaps in the castle's yard above her, yet all she could hear was the silence the tunnels offered her, and the soft brushing of her palm against the rock. It felt almost peaceful here, so peaceful that she knew if she let herself, she would lose herself and decide to remain in this darkness. She could forget about the world above, with its terror and bloodlust, and live in this still quiet. 

But to be happy, to smile and laugh in the sun, even if the possibility had the slimmest of chances, was better than living in stagnation and silence and in sweet darkness.

It was a good half hour before she emerged from behind the tapestry in her bath chambers, sweating. She gratefully took a deep breath of the cool free air before hurrying into her chambers, " Rhaenys?" She said, when she saw the bed empty, " Rhaenys, where are you?"

It was then did Aegon begin to cry in his cradle. Elia crossed the room to pick him up, hastily wrapping him in his swaddling clothes, and brushing his feather soft hair, " Shh, shh," She smiled, bouncing him gently in her arms, " Mama's here, we're going to get out,"

Then, she heard her daughter screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT; i added a couple of paragraphs at the end. i realised the ending was too abrupt. i may continue to edit this chapter actually, because i feel that more justice needs to be done to Elia's final moments. 
> 
> (i struggled with this chapter because i wasn't sure if i will hint to aegon being smuggled away, or if he actually was killed. i reALLY DONT KNOW which theory to side with so i left it ambigous-ey ???  
> also another sticky point that caused the update delay was if or not i was going to write Elia's death and.. yeah what happened before that. I struggled with this point all through this fic actually. and eventually i decided to leave her here. i decided that i loved elia too much and writing her death would just wreck me. in addition to it being very triggering for some people. so anyway thanks for being patient with me xx )


	15. Oberyn IV

Another night without a fire, another night of watching a hundred bright lights in the distance, flickering and dancing, waving him over. 

He pulled his cloak closer around him. It was a simple lamb wool cloak, one that he bought as soon as he realised that the cold in the Reach could make any man without a warm fire fall ill. It snowed slightly, but only for an hour, and the white did not stay long enough to form a white blanket over the green. He found himself thinking of snow falling on the Dornish desert- the first time he saw that was when he was only three, and he remembered he and Elia screaming in the Gardens, chasing after the snowflakes and catching them before they could hit the ground. 

Doran never joined their games, but he was always much too old for them, and not just because he was older than them. Doran was born with an old soul, their father told him once, and was always solemn and sober even as a boy. Of course, every once in a while, he would follow his passions; Mellario being an example of that, and had his tempers as any Dornish did, but Doran always kept them well hidden from view. It often amused Oberyn that they were blood brothers, and yet they were as different as night and day, the earth and the heavens.

Oberyn wondered if he and Doran would be the same people they are now if they were born with fewer years between them.

He blinked and lifted his gaze from to look upon the line of lights, longing for their warmth, and perhaps even the company of those who sat around them. Conversation with himself and his wits have grown stale two weeks ago, and he has stopped himself from pausing at any town or village, favouring of a swift journey to his sister to the kisses of a stranger. The Tyrells, if any of them are in that camp, will know his face and ask where he was going- and no doubt report it to the King- they have no reason not to, even after Willas had forgiven him a dozen times for that joust. The other ordinary men of the Reach will not look at him kindly and will be looking for the slightest reason to pick a fight with a Dornishman- and Oberyn was never good at avoiding fights. Lighting his own fire will alert the Tyrells of his prescence, and a rider will no doubt be sent to apprehend and question him.

Of course he could always turn away from following the Rose Road and travel straight through the forests and hills until he saw the Red Keep, but he preferred the Tyrells to bandits and the risk of losing himself amongst the trees. Tomorrow he will ride ahead of the host, and follow the road closer. Once on the road, and with fair weather and safe passage, he could reach the capital within the next ten days. He wasn't quite sure how he will meet Elia, much less how he will get her out and get her to Sunspear- but he never was one to plan and scheme. His entire life was built on whims and urges and short lived fancies, and his plans were always made as they happened.

Dawn soon came, the sun slowly rising to its throne at the centre of the sky before descending once more. He decided to keep riding through the night, urging his horses into a gallop whenever he felt that they had the energy to. He quickly left the Tyrell host behind and left the forest trails and returned to the Roseroad. The road was flat, wide and clear, without any forest flanking it that left the bandits with no place to hide and wait in ambush. 

He switched horses every few hours, or at the first sign that the one he rode was tiring. He slowed into a walk whenever he needed to eat, and only allowed himself a few hours rest while they grazed and drank, before setting off again. He was sore and aching in his saddle but he refused to allow the pain to slow him, much less stop him. He was so close now, and the closer he got to the capital, the more he felt that he had less time. 

By the time he reached the fringes of the Kingswood, his horses were ornery and refused to be bridled or saddled without fighting him. He knew that they were tired and wished that he could apologised to them, but the voice in his mind panicked at every minute wasted, at every minute not spent in travelling to Elia. He gave them a sugarcube each and promised them that they would have the rest of their lives to rest once this journey is done. 

" One more day," He told them as he climbed onto Black's saddle, and gently steered her back onto the road, " I'll get you two sweet, juicy autumn apples, and you'll have a nice warm stable to sleep in at night. One more day, please,"

He fell asleep in the saddle that night, dreaming of shadows and wraiths. He dreamt of voices that made his very bones shudder and shake, and he dreamt of falling into a pit that swallowed and drowned him. Somewhere, he knew that it was nought but a dream, and he tried to shake away from it. But the darkness gripped him tight and melted into his lungs, filling them and choking him. He thought of Elia, and vowed that he would not die until she is safe, but the wraiths shoved their talons into his eyes and gauged them out, leaving him screaming. 

He woke shaking, his clothes and hair clinging to his skin. He pulled Black to a halt and stumbled down from the saddle to find the nearest tree, his legs half collapsing under him. He pressed himself against the bark and forced himself to take a deep breath. He whispered to himself over and over that there was nothing to fear, but still the voice haunted him, whispering in his ear.

He forced himself back on his feet to find the saddle bags, rummaging for his water skin and taking a generous drink from it before washing his face with whatever that remained. His fingers clung to Red's rough mane and angrily scolded himself for letting a nightmare reduce him to a trembling leaf. 

But he opted to rest the night on solid ground, and so set himself about the task of gathering firewood and setting up camp. The tediousness of it calmed him and once he got a little fire going, he settled against the same tree and laid his cloak flat upon the earth and settled on his back. The dream had faded, and he prayed that he will not be visited by them again. He had suffered enough from those shades and from that voice to last him a lifetime. Perhaps he was foolish to believe that he had left that darkness in Essos, and that they will not follow him here. Perhaps all he wanted to do was to believe that he had not known and done the things he had known and done. 

One of his horses nickered and snorted and Oberyn opened his eyes and sat up despite the protests of his body. He stayed like that, still and listening, for a minute, before he heard the faint mumble of voices. 

He jumped to his feet and put out the fire. Then, carefully, he pulled his horses into tree line, into the shadows, before pulling a spearhead from Red's saddlebag and unfastening a long shaft of oak. Deftly, instinctively, his hands worked the secure the twisted blade to one end of the shaft. 

The voices were growing louder, closer.

He pressed his back against another tree, his steps barely making a sound, even against the fallen and dried leaves. His mind went to bandits. The Kingswood once had a infamous bandit Brotherhood, the band that the Smiling Knight led. They had been as ruthless as their leader was insane, terrorising the Crownlands, kidnapping nobles and slaughtering peasants. Elia had written to him once a long time ago that her travelling party had been attacked by the Brotherhood, and she herself had only escaped because Ser Gerold Hightower had stayed behind to fend them off. He was well aware that the band had been wiped out several years past, but he also knew that in times of war, and bandits were like crows and vultures on a battle field. 

One more day- he cannot allow himself to be captured by a rag tag group of bandits when he was so close to Elia.

He saw a torch fire flicker and dance through the darkness, and he counted a group of three. They were lightly armoured, likely sent to patrol the area. There is likely to be a camp nearby. There were two options open to him now, to kill this patrol before they could find him and alert the camp, race down the road and fight his way through should the camp be in his way, or to sneak away and find his way around the camp. 

He almost laughed. _Why did I even consider an alternative?_

He hurried towards them, crouched low, moving easily from shadow to shadow. Their heavy boots made such a racket on the forest floor that it helped disguise his own approach. They were speaking with each other, and their voices were gruff and their accent was thick and strange to his ear. He then saw the device on their surcoats and on the shield one carried on his back.

And there, was the Stark Direwolf.

The Rebels were in the Kingswood- were they laying siege on King's Landing?

He breathed, feeling his heart rise to his throat- Elia.

He let the three men walk past him. 

What if they had already sacked the city?

They were three paces from him. 

_Elia- Gods-_

He hurried back to the horses, and vaulted onto Red's saddle. He urged her into a brisk trot, keeping to the shadows, but following the road. Black followed closely behind, but Oberyn did not think she would follow if he plunges into a fight, and leading her by her reins will only slow him down. There were new smells in the air; a proper war camp, he deemed, and soon he saw fires.

Spear still in hand, he gripped it tighter, his mind racing. He knew that it would be foolish to charge into the camp- He'll be surrounded and overpowered as soon as the alarm goes, and if he is captured, what good will he be to Elia. 

If she still lived.

But if she wasn't- if Kings Landing had been sacked and she and her children killed- there would be nothing sweeter than killing those men who had a part in it, however small. 

The thought made him grit his teeth and his stomach twist- and he had to remind himself that he didn't know Elia's fate, and he would be a fool to get himself killed over an assumption.

He steered around the camp, eyes warily watching the camp fires that littered the darkness. He saw tents and horses and men and boys. The camp was noisy, there was music and there were roaring and laughing- were they celebrating? Or was this simply a performance to lift morale?

" You there-!"

He turned his head and saw two soldiers standing not ten feet away. He saw their eyes in the torch light and saw their hands on their sword hilts.

" Who goes there?"

" A merchant," He answered almost too quickly, forgetting to mask his accent, " I do not wish for any trouble,"

" Do all Dornish merchants carry spears in their hands when they ride?" The other one asked, stepping towards him. 

" These are dangerous times," He smiled, forcing his body to ease, " And it is not uncommon for one who has lived on the sands to know how to defend himself,"

" We will have to see your wares," Said the first one.

" Why? So you can rob me and call it tax?" He replied, keeping an amiable tone, " I sell jewellery and gems, and forgive me for being cautious, but many an inspector have wronged me so,"

" There is none to purchase such wares from here on, good ser," The second one lifted the torch a little higher so to throw more light around them, " You will find better luck selling them jewels to the lords in the camp; many have ladies and brides to go home to," 

He swallowed, venturing, " The Ladies and Queens of Kings Landing have always been my loyal customers,"

" I'm sorry, the city isn't...,"

The first one took another step towards him, " The city has been sacked," He said, finishing his friend's sentence, " I suggest you turn back or be brought to Lord Arryn. There is no one in the city to buy your wares at this time,"

" Sacked?" He set his teeth, renewing his grip of his spear, before asking," And the Princess Elia? Any news of her? "

" I hear she was killed,"

" Oh," He breathed, gently urging Red towards the two men, " By whom?"

" The Lannisters, I suppose," Said one of them- it didn't matter to him now, " When they sacked the city,"

" And her children? The little Prince and Princess?" Closer, closer.

" Killed too," The man smiled; a proud smile, " We won this war, we did,"

" Yes, it would seem so," Oberyn could hear his own heart beating in his ears, " I would like to have a meeting with Lord Arryn, please,"

" Of course, if you would- _Agh!_ " His scream was gargled and muffled as bubbles of blood rose from the gaping hole in his neck.

There was a cry for help followed by a sharp gasp and groan.

The blade of his spear was red.

He kicked his horse forward and raced into the camp. 

There was a boy, no older than fourteen, who saw him with wide frightened eyes.

A man, taking a piss, who saw him through his squinted eyes.

A lordling, in his chain shirt, who saw him through confused eyes.

He killed them all.

Before his world turned into a flurry of blood and flame.

All he heard was the drumming of his own heart, deafening.

All he saw was Elia- still, broken, and dead.

And all he felt was the pain in his chest, maddening, threatening to split him open and rip him apart.

_Elia._

Somehow, he found his hands chained in front of him, and he was dragged forward. Like a wild horse, he tugged and he pulled and he bellowed curses- and if he had two more legs, he was sure he would buck and kick. 

Something was hammering mercilessly against the insides of his skull and he tasted rust in his mouth. His hair was matted against his forehead and his shoulder burnt and seared, as something hot ran slowly down his arm and side, soaking his shirt.

There was noise, so much noise, so many voices around him. Shouts, jeers, he cant make them out, there was a ringing in his ears.

Someone kicked his knees from under him and he crumpled to the ground, but he will not yell out in pain for them, " You killed her!" He heard himself snarl and roar, " You killed her and her children! You fucking sons of whores! "

There was an old man who arrived in front of him, with snow white hair and broad shoulders. He stood straight and tall, and Oberyn knew immediately that he was faced with a Lord, and he knew that it must be Jon Arryn.

The chains bit into his wrists.

" What is your name?" The Lord Arryn asked.

And he replied, growling, " I am Oberyn Nymeros Martell," 

At that, silence fell around him, and the quiet anger faded from Arryn's face to be replaced by surprise.

When none spoke, Oberyn pushed himself to his feet and continued, " I demand to see my sister's body, the Princess Elia, and that of her children, Prince Aegon and Princess Rhaenys. I demand all those who were involved in their murder be brought to justice. I demand death for death,"

" You killed ten of my men," Arryn found his voice once again, " Like you, i wish justice for their deaths,"

He spat, blood on his lips, " Unless they were the ones who killed Princess Elia and her children, their deaths mean nothing to me. They were soldiers, my sister and her babes were not. Your men were killed, my sister and her babes were murdered,"

Arryn stared at him, lips pursed thin, " Bring him to my pavilion," he ordered, " Your status requires that we speak when you are not half in mud and half in blood," the old man then turned his back and marched up a slope.

A northerner, by the looks of him, tugged on Oberyn's chains and led him forward to follow the old Lord Arryn. To spite him, Oberyn went slowly, glaring and scowling. The crowd that had gathered around him were jeering but they were so many voices that he heard none of them. 

Elia, he thought again, and his heart twisted in his chest and he wanted to fall and sob- but another jerk gnawed sharply at his wrists and his pain was replaced by anger. 

Anger hurt less.

It hurt less than grief; than guilt. 

The pavilion was warm, filled with chairs with plush cushions of rich design, coloured sky blue and white. There was a table at the centre, by the fire, where rolls of maps and parchment lay. The old man stood by the table, and ordered Oberyn to be released and commanded his guards to step outside. His men went hesitantly, and one even quietly expressed his concerns, to which the old man replied with, " I may have more white than grey in my hair, but i am not defenceless,"

Once they were alone, Lord Arryn beckoned him to the table as he sat, " I understand your rage, Prince Oberyn," His expression was grim, and with the fire light, there seemed to be more lines on his face, ageing him, " We did not mean Princess Elia and her children to be killed,"

He found Lord Arryn's eyes and held his gaze, " Who killed them then, and who is we?"

" It was ... the Lannisters, and we, meaning myself and the rebel high command, played no part in their murder," Arryn's words were careful, and Oberyn thought that he spoke like Doran, " As you may already know, the Lannisters have remained neutral throughout this war, and remained as aloof to us as they were to the King. 

" You expect me to think that Baratheon had no part in this?" Oberyn set his jaw, " Robert Baratheon wanted the throne, and my niece and nephew were obstacles to that end,"

" No," Arryn said, " Robert had no wish to be king, not when he is true and sober, anyway. He simply wanted Lyanna Stark back and the end to the Mad King's rule and injustice. He... he would never order the deaths of innocent babes,"

Oberyn shook his head, and clenched his fist, leaning forward, " Fine," He said, his voice snarling, " Which Lion killed my sister and her babes? I am sure Lord Tywin had ordered it if he did not do it himself. I want the heads of every single man- even woman- responsible for this. No- I want them in chains, even the mighty Lord Tywin. I will take the pleasure of killing them myself,"

" No one knows who did it,"

" Lord Tywin knows,"

" It may not have happened under his orders, it could have been something that-,"

" _Bullshit!_ " He slammed his fist onto the table, " That's fucking bullshit, and you know it,"

" No, Prince Oberyn," Arryn replied, calm, " I do not know,"

" I want death for death, Lord Arryn," He said, " Three deaths for three lives stolen,"

" I promise you, once peace has settled, you, and all of Dorne, will get their justice," the old man put his hands together, " I wish i knew of the Lannister's intent, truly i do. I... I have had an agreement with your brother to ensure your sister's and her children's safety for cooperation and support from Dorne. And they were babes... and... ," Lines grew across his brow, pausing for a beat, " I have been tasked to travel to Sunspear to deliver their bones... along with those of your Uncle. Yes, you will see them tonight,"

Silence fell between them.

" I'm sorry," the old man finally said, his voice quiet, " I truly am,"

Oberyn swallowed, " Give us Tywin Lannister, and those involved in this murder, and Dorne will stay in the fold. So long as my sister's spirit remains in unrest, Dorne will be in rebellion. This, I promise you,"

" Your brother said as much in his messages," The old man almost sounded tired, before raising his voice, " Ronnett, bring Prince Oberyn to a tent of his own, and give him a maester to tend to his wounds,"

Oberyn almost spat that he did not need a maester- but he was weary and his stomach felt sick, and so he kept his silence and pushed through the tent flaps. 

A guard grunted and mumbled at him and he took it as a request to follow, and soon, Oberyn found himself in a little tent that was much too cold for him. A maester arrived soon after and nervously asked him to sit, and so he did. Oberyn peeled his doublet off and then his tunic. He saw that he had been cut deep at shoulder, but he didn't feel it. He couldn't feel anything.

The maester cleaned the cut and the bruise on his head, before stitching the cut close and bandaging both of them. As soon as he was done, Oberyn dismissed him and once again he was alone.

He stared at his hands, flexing his fingers, and thinking if he had his spear, or even his poisons, he would poison every single man in this camp; starting with Lord Arryn. 

Then, a draft of cool air stirred him and he saw that seven shades had entered, standing in a line. Three held a large wooden box, while two held a smaller one, while the remaining two held a little box each. And they stood there.

He sat up, and blinked, when he realised that they were only Silent Sisters.

And his eyes fell once more to the boxes and said, " Leave my family here,"

Carefully, the Sisters set the boxes down in a line, turned and left.

He wanted nothing but to sleep and forget, but he stood and stepped to the boxes. The first he opened was his Uncle Lewyn, that much was clear, though it was not him. Just bones, a white cloak, a broken breastplate, and a bright sword. He saw that the breastplate was shattered in many places, and knew that his Uncle died fighting, even when he could no longer.

Oberyn mumbled an old prayer and moved to the next box, but his hands would not move to remove the cover.

_Elia._

_Gods- I'm sorry-_

His eyes and nose stung as he held his tears in.

_I owe it to her, to look upon her once more._

And slowly, the wooden panel moved, but he stopped half way when he saw her skull.

_It was my fault._

He tasted salt on his lips and he quickly closed the casket.

He turned his head, and saw the two little boxes beside him.

He did not open them.

_I'm sorry._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Im so sorry for such a late chapter. the last two weeks have been spent getting ready for uni and settling at uni and adapting to another country ; ___ ; didn't expect it to take me so much time and effort. anyway, i want to say that this fic is the first of a series, so stuff in this part will be linking in with the other parts ;3 i'm torn between writing a prequel to this or a sequel next.. what do you guys wanna see? theres just sooo much stuff to write dunno which to write first))
> 
> (( and two more chapters i think <3 ))

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! :3 Constructive criticism are welcome <3


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